Your Darkness Is Rising
by Lost And Torn
Summary: Four young teenagers find themselves witnessing nightmarish events that took place long ago. If that's so.. then why do they not only see these occurances while at school, but in their dreams as well? Rated M for swearing and future scenes of violence.
1. Prolouge: Where We All Began

Disclaimer: I don't own Silent Hill. That right belongs to Konami. How.. unfortunate for me.

_Sixteen years ago_

It wouldn't stop screaming. Its heart-wrenching cries slammed into her mind, as though with every wail an inch of her sanity was being crushed, her insomnia was getting to her from getting hardly any sleep at all the previous night, and her indigo dress was soaked in her blood. Scarlet's blood soaked hands were pressed to her ears, trying so hard to shut the damned noise out, but it seemed the harder the young mother attempted to block it out, the louder it got.

She rocked back and forth, clasping her sanious fingernails deeper into her scalp and shut over her ears harder as each passing second drifted by like an endless eternity. The indigo gown she purchased barely three days ago was now drenched from bottom to top in her blood, she bore no wounds on her body, yet the rivers of crimson recurred to taint the earth ground, and she was in the worst pain of her life.

Not that Scarlet cared anymore; it wasn't like it mattered; she wasn't really even aware of anything.

It hurt everywhere, especially the area where the blood seemed to ooze more and more from the walls with each passing second, like a raging sea of flame that threatened to devour the shreds of sanity the young mother clung to so desperately, but it seemed that no matter how many times she went over it in her head, it only deepened her confusion; her current dilemma tore her very soul in half, shattering the mental barriers she had put up to guard against the horrific noises and monstrosities. Scarlet's entrancing red eyes scanned the darkness, but all around her the darkness seemed inescapable, plus the bundle of blood soaked blankets concealing a wailing fragile body of life that wouldn't stop screaming its head off, and the female albino clasped her cold hands over her deafening ears, trying to block out the noise.

The walls of the tiny shack, where she had sought refuge from the nightmarish creatures, and had hid inside for two days now, pulsated with thick sinewy veins of black and red, oozing countless rivers of blood and pus from the mold encrusted wooden barriers that protected her from the numb cold outside. Her child, barely twenty-four hours old, suddenly grew quiet, as if she sensed that her endless shrieking wasn't helping her mother, and Scarlet smiled down in gratitude at her daughter who cooed softly in return, watching as her mother slowly removed her red streaked hands away from her deafened ears.

This baby, her daughter, was a gift, but only to Scarlet, and nobody else. Everyone else had glared disapprovingly down at her baby girl, silently scorning the young mother for giving birth to such a peculiar child; Scarlet's exact snow white hair and her entrancing, observant red eyes graced her daughter's s face, her skin was a smooth cream color in texture. She had come to this town to search for her high school sweetheart, whom she believed to be father of her baby and the cause of her malcontent, wearing nothing but the clothes on her back, but what she found within the town's misty fog was her worst nightmares, and she wished for nothing more than to leave this hellish town with her child.

Those nightmarish creatures that lurked about outside, spurting endless cacophony moans and unearthly shrieks of agony from their bleeding mouths, were still wandering aimlessly about; she could hear every unearthly noise they made and Scarlet desperately wanted to run outside, run away from the town that seemed to make certain she lost each shred of sanity she still possessed. A brief smile crossed Scarlet's blank face when her daughter yawned in an adorable manner, one that touched her heart, and her smile widened a little as she watched her child's curious crimson optics slowly close shut, her breathing eventually grew soft and silent.

She didn't care about anything anymore. All that mattered to Scarlet at that particular moment in her twenty-two year-old life was escaping this hellhole with her baby, and her sanity intact, but she didn't understand why she had even bothered coming here in the first place; her would-be husband was nowhere to be found. All that came to see her were those dreadful monsters that persistently pursued her; she felt a pang of guilt strike her heart, regretting the moment when she had thrown away the chance at beginning a life for her and her baby.

Hours passed. The first signs of dawn breaking through the dark clouds blinded Scarlet's eyes temporarily, and she blinked a few times while straining her vision as she looked at her surroundings, sighing heavily to herself in disbelief.

She still resided within the tiny shack.

Time passed again. She didn't know what it was, whether it was the quiet breathing that came from her still sleeping child, or whether it was the determination to ensure the safety of her and her baby, but Scarlet slowly got up. With her sleeping daughter cradled against her chest, the female albino left the shack, stepping out into the fog and into the unknown.

_Seventeen years ago_

Everyone should've known something was wrong.

Emily was new. With every nurse transferred to Brookhaven Hospital came the demand for every nurse that suddenly resigned or quit as suddenly as they started their first day, complaining about weird noises and even stranger occurrences; most seemed to happen in the basement where all the medical staff had been strictly forbidden never to enter, no matter what the circumstances. But Emily was well-liked by nearly everyone she met; it was hard not to enjoy being in her company.

Always smiling, cheerful, and warm. But Emily's usual cheerful and bright persona disappeared from her face the moment she stepped into the office that Friday morning; insomnia was most likely the cause of her unusually weary disposition this morning, due to the heavy bags of flesh hanging from under her eyes.

The eighteen year-old full time medical assistant staggered clumsily towards her employer, who shot her a concerned look but, like everything else that happened around her, Emily seemed aware of nothing, even the sluggish posture she had to her as she latched onto the counter, breathing in shallow breaths. All the other nurses grinned evilly at the young adult's intoxicated manner, their eyes bathing in devilish content when the young woman suddenly collapsed to the floor, convulsing violently as if she were having a seizure.

Her rose colored cheeks slowly grew a ghostly shade of white, and her emerald eyes, that had sparkled with joyfulness at many an occasion whenever her boss complimented on her work, were dull and devoid of all emotion and signs of life. Darlene rushed over to her fallen co-worker, placing her hands on her head, sputtering panicked comments of utter nonsense, her blue eyes darting frantically from her boss to her shivering friend, whose body seemed to quake from head to toe against some unseen breeze of a nonexistent frigid draft.

Beads of sweat trickled down her pale forehead, even if it was mid-fall, trying desperately to make out whose blurred facial outline loomed in front of her, but all she could make out was sympathetic ocean blue eyes and baby soft brown hair; it was her friend Darlene. That much she knew. Emily's violent spasm grew as Darlene gently eased the trembling woman off the floor, cradling Emily's head in her lap stroking her hair in a comforting way, but she still seemed unaware of what was happening. Darlene was shocked when Emily lifted her head. So oddly pale, tired and weak she looked, still dripping sweat and her emerald eyes beheld a look of pure astonishment and terror at something only she was able to see.

Emily could only cry and continue to shiver in her friend's lap, despite not seeing her co-workers shaking their heads, or the few disapproving clicks of their tongues, or their hushed whispers of what they believed may have happened. Because of the harsh breathing that came from Emily's pale blue lips, her friend had to lean in closer to her ear to catch the soft whisper the eighteen year-old made.

_"I never should've left Silent Hill_._"_

_Fifteen years ago_

"Should we, darling? I mean, what if they belong to someone? Their parents may be looking for them."

Virgil cradled the sleeping children in his arms, the young toddlers he'd so fiercely disputed over his wife to bring them home with them, whose teal blue eyes were glazed with concern and worry, but had eventually won their argument, assuring his wife, Eva, that their parents had abandoned them.

Why was he so desperate in keeping these children?

Was it because that after they married they had found out that Eva couldn't bear children of her own?

Was that why he desired so much to take them under their wings? Under their care?

The girls had told them they were four; one was clearly older than the other, but for now neither of the adults could tell which one, and besides that little bit of information they either wouldn't, or couldn't, remember anything else. If they hadn't stopped because of car trouble, and if Eva hadn't gotten out of the car to retrieve the map from the trunk, they never would've spotted them lying face down in the mud. And they never would've pulled them up in time.

"We should.. who could leave them like this?" It was decided then and there. Virgil had made up his mind and Eva agreed to the decision. All signs pointed to this being a God send; a miracle. Yes. A miracle to the couple. Two children for the childless couple, two girls hanging between the balance of life and death. They had saved them in their time of need. It was a miracle they had found them.

Surely a miracle.

Author's Thoughts: Shorter than what I usually write, no? I deleted my other Silent Hill fic; Nowhere To Run and Nowhere To Hide. It wasn't doing that well anyways, and what's the sense in keeping a fic if nobody except two people like it? Don't worry, NTRNTH is basically a continuation of this fic, only it'll be better. Hopefully.

Review please. Anyone who wishes to be added besides the three people in this fic please message me. Ja ne, people!


	2. Hate Me Not

Disclaimer: You guys know the drill. Don't own, don't sue. Thank you.

This story will be told from four or so people's perspectives. So whoever's name you see at the top will be talking, thinking, acting, etc., until it shifts to the next person. Enjoy.

**(Chelsea)**

It was like this every morning. Every single morning. Get up, draw whatever nightmares haunted me from the previous night, wait for my nineteen year-old sister Sharon to get up and do her early morning ritual, the one she's been doing since she turned fourteen: cry to herself while she laid on the cold bathroom floor. Dad doesn't understand why my sis is currently going through this so-called "phase of depression". Mom, as always, insists that Sharon is only discovering that she's finally ready to be shipped off to the nut house, but that's bullshit if you ask me. Sharon doesn't show it often, but she's really a considerate, sweet and sensitive soul, but the thing is she always puts up this cold and silent demeanor at school. She just wants everyone else, except me and Dad, to leave her alone.

She even told me once when we were kids that once, just once, she'd wish for all the people who've hurt me to perish in flames.

Creepy, yes. But coming from her, I'd take that as a reality of sorts. Sharon seems to hide something from everybody, not including me, but it's like her most dreadful secret is one she doesn't want to share with anybody, and I've never gathered the courage to ask what it is, or why she's hiding it from me. Wait.. someone's crying?

At this hour in the morning? For Christ's sake, not even Sharon is up this early. It's almost quarter past seven. Oh, wait a minute, it's her who's crying in the bathroom.. but why? I suppose that's something I'll never know.

She doesn't even have the light on in there! How the hell can she expect to find the knob in the dark? Well, she does have hands like everybody else, but it's pitch black in there, and she's not exactly the most favorable person to be around in the mornings.. I'm the only one nowadays who can make her laugh and smile. She always puts herself down constantly, muttering under her breath how ugly she is, but she's very cute.. in my book anyway. Everybody's entitled to their own opinion; just like the kids at school who call her 'the weird girl'.

And I'll never understand why they hate her so.

**(Sharon)**

I can hear her mumbling comforting words to me as she draws her masterpieces of art, demonic yet inspiring, and filled with wondrous awe.. even now, while I'm lying on the cold bathroom floor, shedding my depression, and my catastrophic soul, by crying like a fucking baby. God.. what did I ever deserve to live for? Chelsea.. my little sister... If it weren't for her caring and sweet personality, I would've said to hell with it and committed suicide ages ago. Death seems better than the current life I have. It's like this every fucking morning. Only this morning seemed a lot weirder than the others.

Every morning I've woken up, believing I was dead.. not that I ever was, fortunately enough for my sister.

It's not like it was a nightmare, what made me think I was dead.. no, it was much worse. I don't remember any of them, any of my dreams, whether they were good or bad, and I don't know why I'm like this. Not a single one in nineteen years, I was gonna be twenty in three months. That's what scares me. Every time I wake up, it's like.. my heart was beating slower than usual, and my lungs are filled up with something.

Sometimes it even hurt just to breathe. And I'm always covered in cold sweat. A foul substance, that tasted like mire and blood, was lodged at the back of my throat. Even now, as I stare back at my reflection that danced a playful melancholic dance of its own upon the crystalline marble, my eyes cloud up slowly.. it reminded me of my dead cat. I had her for seven years. I got her for passing Grade 4. **(1)** And I suppose that's part of the reason how I came to be, and act so.. bipolar and unemotional as I do today, and every other day of my so-called fucking life. It's because of my guilt.

I blame myself for allowing her to get hurt. I should've known better. But _noooo._ Don't blame me. I'm the innocent little angel with the halo floating on her head. Yeah right. The day I become a goddamn nun is the day Hell freezes over. If I'm guilty of not taking care of my pet, my first pet, than you might as well decapitate me right now, while I'm still in the mood when I can feeling nothing; physically or emotionally.

But that's not even the worst shit I see reflected upon the toilet's 'mirror' this morning.

Peering in a bit closer, I could swear that, for a split second, the blood vessels in my misty eyes that were usually pink were..

The blood... today it looked a bit like..

Black?

So, while I ignored this slightly disturbing sight, I remained slumped upon the cold, barely immaculate, tile floor of the bathroom Chelsea and I shared, since we also shared our bedroom, bringing my knees up close to my chest and hugged them tight, burying my tear-streaked face between them as I recurred where I left off; silently dying inside while crying to myself like an abused toddler would. Sobbing hysterically, with the idea that I was never meant to live, never meant to have been given the so-called "gift of life", and my body shook with the musing cold draft fluttering in through the ventilation shaft on the ceiling. I didn't mind. The cold was so much like my current, everyday early morning blues; uncaring; dissatisfied with my life; hoping that I'd be dead the next day.

My tears were silent, as was my depression, and I wasn't very loud. I knew it wasn't wise to be loud this early in the morning, and on a school day no less, otherwise-

"**SHARON! **You lazy, good-for-nothing **WHORE, **get your sorry ass out of the bathroom this minute!"

My mother might hear me by chance. I swear she has the ears of a bat, but the intelligence of an earthworm. Goddamn her; I **_loathe_** that egotistical bitch with a passion. She's fucking insane.**(2)**

Sighing heavily, I sucked in a deep exhausted breath of air, possibly from crying so hard for nearly an hour in the bathroom like a fallen angel seeking repentance from her God, and stumbled clumsily to my feet using the wooden cabinet as leverage, scrambling to pull myself together. Apparently so did Chelsea. An assortment of bangs and slams echoed from behind the bathroom door rang in my numb ears, her feet pounded on the carpeted floor as she cursed in perfect French, but I only understood the words "cock-sucker" and "goddamn it all to motherfucking Hell."

I smiled briefly to myself. God bless her soul. She's the only person who can brighten my day in an instant. Unlike a certain mother I could mention, who wouldn't give a rat's ass if I were to plunge to my death from on top of Signal Hill; that's a three hundred foot drop if you were wondering. Not that I'd care if I died. Only Chelsea and my father would.

My hair was a knotted mass of dark brown, tinted with red and black, though the black isn't not really distinguishable due to my hair already being dark enough as it is, not a dye attempt gone wrong, but that's what the kids at school seem to think it is; it's my natural hair color. The dark blue circles under my eyes didn't help me any, that and they were extra dark – they almost looked black – due to some anti-sleep last night, and my arched nose was bright pink from sniffling like a sobbing, snotty four year-old brat who hadn't received her candy.

_Ah, how wondrously fan-fucking-tastic_._ So fucking ugly I am; what else is new?_ Suddenly, the banging grew louder and more annoying with each passing second, and I growled animalistically to myself, wondering how lower could that no-good bitch sink. Now she was striking the bathroom door with something heavier than her fists.

_Fuck the world_. _Fuck my mother_. _Fuck everything_. _The world can go to Hell for all I care_.

"Fuck off, bitch! I'll be out when I'm ready, alright!"

Apparently, not the right answer for her. The bathroom door looked as if it was bending a little with each smack that struck the fragile mahogany wood, mumbling angrily to myself I quickly undid the lock, and had barely just enough time to jump back before the door was kicked in with sufficient force that I expected a deadly cyclone to be on the other side.

But no. Oh fucking no. It was only my mother; all in all, nobody important. Just my horrendous, mood-swinging, prone-to-bitch-bitch-bitch-about-me-on-a-daily-basis, PMSing whore of a mother of mine. Frankly, I wouldn't be surprised if she turned out to be one of those street sluts, especially the hookers on Merry Lane Avenue who, if you've got the right amount of cash, would fuck their clients in any way; man or woman. I wouldn't mind much if Chelsea dressed in the same attire as they do, but on any other 19 and a half year-old woman's body, those kind of clothes looked just plain slutty.

Everyday I silently thank God that I didn't look anything like my mother. I was barely her height, maybe around 5'0 or 5'1, whereas she was about 5'5, if you count the blond gray-streaked hair that always was tied up in a tight bun of messy strands that would put Medusa to shame. Also she had this really, _really_ screwed up scrunched look to her face, one that remained plastered on her ugly features 24/7, her nose had a dragonesque look to it, and that annoying hole in her face that would never shut up reminded me of our goldfish; constantly gaping open and shut, with no clear, coherent words coming out.

"Were you crying **AGAIN?" **_I never cease to amaze her I suppose_._ Well, whoop-di-fucking-doo_.

"Get out of my way. I'm going to be late for school." I replied bluntly, biting back the cuss words.

She didn't. _Hmm_..._ I wonder if she's deaf_. I hope she ends up that way, going deaf I mean. Then again, I wouldn't care if she dropped dead right here, right now. A more suitable ending for the likes of a whore like her. Then I wouldn't have to listen to her. Oh the joys of not having a such pitiful excuse for a mother such as her around anymore. Now _that_ would be something that would make me truly happy. Her death. Hope it comes soon. I'll dance on her grave, and throw confetti all over the damn place, laughing in maniacal joy at how she wasn't able to discourage me so that I sunk to her level.. I'd die before I'd allow that to happen.

"Oh boo fucking hoo. Your life is _soooo_ hard, we ask you to do _soooo _much around this house. Did you ever realize how much of a burden you are to me, is that why you're crying? Or are you crying because nobody asked you to the Semi-Formal? Is that it? It's no fucking wonder. Probably because you act so depressed all the goddamn time. You know you're only doing this to your fucking self. If I had five hundred dollars for every time I saw you sulking about, crying like the pathetic bitch you are-"

She was lightly tapping a meat mallet against the fat of her palm as she recurred with her lecture, but all I heard was more of the same old-same old tiresome bitching that came out in dry hissing, spraying my pale complexion with her spit, glaring in durable disapproval at me as I stood there with a blank, observant stare of my own; one I had practiced in the mirror ever since I was seven; I wasn't your average kid growing up, mind you.

Not that I ever _was_ normal to begin with. Apparently, her weapon of choice was what she used on our sorry bathroom door, now lying haphazard to the peach colored wall in battered splinters of cherry-brown wood, but of course mom didn't care.. when did she ever care about anyone, or anything, other than herself?

"Are you even listening to **me, you little whore?"** She raised the wooden hammer above her head. And a tiny voice in the farthest corridors of my mind cried with joy, nearly shattering what little restraint I still possessed.

_Do it! Do it! Do it! Just give me a reason!_ My left hand tightened on the black strap of the backpack I had slung over my shoulders, my free hand absentmindedly curling into a fist, in case she really did hit me with that mighty weapon of mass destruction of hers. And I was seriously considering just slugging her right across the face right then, and running as though my ass was on fire. Her hand suddenly fell to her side.

All she said was, "Get your fucking ass to school." That was her final witty comment.

I had to sigh to myself. Partially in disappointment because she didn't hit me, and partially because she was now gone, maybe I felt a bit relieved on that matter. Chelsea apparently witnessed the whole scene, I felt her comforting touch on my shoulder, which she patted gently in a sisterly gesture to assure me that everything would be alright. A grateful smile slowly curled the corners of my pale rose lips, and became a full-fledged grin in five seconds flat, Chelsea returned the grin, showing two rows of pearl white teeth, all perfect and not crooked like mine were. She took great care in dental hygiene.

The moment Chelsea slammed the door to upstairs shut, she quickly made me giggle when she imitated mom's actions and words precisely, she even went as far as to scrunch up her face and shake her index finger at me in that typical motherly way that bitch did with me whenever she was "disappointed" in me. Good thing she doesn't look a thing like mom did, or I'd probably hate her too.. no, no matter even if she did look like her, there's no way I'd hate my only sibling.

Chelsea's eyes were an intriguing mixture of blue, green and gray, her hair was a few inches longer than mine was and a combination of light brown and light gold, with natural streaks of bright gold. And she was bigger than me as well, in height and weight, plus she was on the school's wrestling team and nobody could beat her. Maybe that's due to the excessive muscles she has besides the chubbiness she possesses. Tough yet sweet, firm but fair, cold yet warm. Her personality was different than mine too, except for that last part, we were nothing alike. Chelsea was my only friend. And I was quite content with just her.

But when Chelsea and I past the mirror hanging on the wall on the landing, the hairs on the back of my neck stood up immediately, and cold chills danced over my spine.. something felt different. I could.. sense it. So I turned around slowly, my hazel-blue pools grew wide at what I saw. I couldn't believe it. I was sure I was dreaming.

The entire stairs and upstairs hallway was, from where I could see, engulfed in a scorching sea of flame. Numerous tongues of reddish orange licked away at the wooden banister and crumbling walls, the intense heat enveloped my body in a comforting wave of warmth, like I'd just stepped into a hot shower.

I swore I could hear a woman screaming in pain. Shrieking for me to help her. I knew who it was; my mother.

The smile on my face slowly grew to a satisfied sneer. For the first time in ages, I felt happy.

1- Actual fact; based on pure history. So don't laugh.

2- Not my actual home life. And I don't hate my mother 'cause she doesn't act like that. But the way my school life is kinda like will be in the next chapter.

Author's Thoughts: I know this chapter kinda sucks people, but please for my sake review! It's what keeps me going. French girl from England, to answer your question yes the baby in the first chapter was relating to you. But I don't know what your personality's like, and if you think you're sister wouldn't mind being added then tell her to message me. That goes for anyone who's reading this. Ja ne!


	3. Let's Get Ready To Rumble!

Disclaimer: I don't own Silent Hill. All I own are one of my OCs for this fic, myself and the plot. So don't sue me please.

(**Carla**)

_For the love of Christ! I'm gonna be late! And on my first day too!_ My red eyes flashed angrily as I ran like a bat out of Hell, silently cursing myself for destroying my alarm clock when it rang like a goddamn clock tower bell signaling the end of church, and now I was to face the consequence for not only forcing my body to wake up, but also for not getting ready fast enough.

"Damn."

Stealing a quick glance at my wristwatch, I growled softly seeing the current time beep-beeping back at me, taunting me to no end, and a string of curses flew past my lips as I made a sharp turn to the left, silently praying that I'd make before the first bell rang. It was 7:50. I had precisely 10 minutes before classes started. But nobody ever saves the "new kid" a seat. That's why I prefer to arrive early and grab a desk before anyone else came in, but luck wouldn't be with me this time. And who's fault is it? Mine of course. Whose else would it fucking be?

**SLAM**

I screeched to a sudden halt, and only a few blocks away from school too, but turned around to see who it was, despite the fact that I'd most likely receive detention after school, and I silently cursed myself for not listening to my brain. I should've just kept running while I had the chance. The person who had slammed the front door to their house was none other than Sharon Marquette, or the "Luna chick" as she was sometimes called at my school from what I heard some of the kids who attended the local high school, but that wasn't the worst of it.

Her sister – Chelsea I think her name was – patted her shoulder reassuringly, like a mother soothing her child after she'd fallen off her bike, but Sharon obviously wasn't the easiest to comfort or cheer up. From where I was standing, it looked as if she'd been crying, and the countless bloodshot pinkish-red veins that pulsated angrily in around her pupils were enough to tell me that, but when they suddenly stopped a few feet away from me, I felt very nervous for some unexplainable reason.

"And I suppose you're gonna insult my sister too, are you?" Chelsea narrowed her eyes suspiciously.

"N-no! I'm not here to insult her. I'm on my way to your school." I said all this in one breath, but I was sweating profoundly; droplets of cold perspire trickled down my pale forehead and matted my snow white hair to my face.

Chelsea sighed, her bluish-gray-green optics flashed briefly with relief. "That's good to know. She gets it enough at school, she doesn't need it from anyone else."

"So, you're new, eh? Great. Our school always has a way with fresh blood." Chelsea said, a devious smirk crossed her face as she patted her sister's shoulders in a soothing manner only a sibling could offer.

"Ah.. yeah. Is there a problem?" I hoped there wasn't going to be any trouble on my first day.

"Usually there is, if you're a newbie, but that doesn't mean we're not gonna protect ya!" She said, striking the center of her overly large bosom like a proud solider.

Halfway down the route to school I'd been walking on for the next five minutes, Chelsea suddenly struck up a conversation, though the silence was somewhat disturbing, and who wouldn't feel even the slightest bit uncomfortable in the company of the school's "Ice Queen"? Another nickname those "stuck-up skeets at that hellhole" had come up with to describe her sister, or so Chelsea claimed, but I knew she wasn't the type to lie about something which concerned her sibling.

"So, have you met Monica Belle yet? What do you think of her?"

"She's the most annoying little slut I've ever seen." _Whoa. Sharon sure does have issues. _

"Sharon! This kid's new. You don't need to spit things out so suddenly!" Chelsea hissed.

"So? Bet the kid's gonna think nothing different when she sees the school whore performing lap dances just to earn a little pocket money." She retorted acidly, her hazel-blue eyes flashed with a fire I'd never seen.

The rest of the walk to school was silent, and I couldn't help but feel more and more disturbed by Sharon's sudden remark about this Monica Belle character Chelsea mentioned, but I barely knew the girl, so I knew I couldn't judge her simply because of the disturbing statement she made. _Can my day get any worse?_

(**Chelsea)**

_Goddamn that slut-faced, no-good bitch! She'll rue the day she insulted my sister._ From the constant looks the albino was sending at my sister, it seems that she was just as shocked and disturbed at Sharon's statement as I was, but she'd get used to it if she decided to hang around with us. Which most likely wouldn't happen. Most of the people who ended up meeting my sister eventually would soon wind up picking on her, but for some reason they never dared to bother me, and that was starting to not only piss me off, but also getting a bit old for my liking.

Everybody of the "normal" student body sent their strongest death glares when we walked in. They also spot the "new girl", and the popular bitches whispering dissolves as they sneer evilly, and today wouldn't turn out to the best first day at the school for the poor kid, plus she already looked different enough with her snow white hair and red eyes.

_Hmm.. what do we have here?_ Seemed like another newbie had gotten added to the school's group of morons, and judging by the looks she's getting from that prick who's ready to lay one on her face, trouble's gonna begin soon. Sharon, no doubt amused seeing someone else getting picked on, smirked to herself before she waltzed her way over to the girl who would soon going to be in a world of hurt if somebody didn't do something. Her light chocolate brown eyes shone with mischief as she laughed to herself, her light brown hair is highlighted with streaks of dark brown and her skin was olive colored so she's probably Italian, and from my standpoint she was the incarnation of evil. The new girl I mean. Not my sister.

Sharon just stood there, staring the new girl's bully in the face with a bored, cold stare, who frowned in obvious disapproval seeing his fun had ended quicker than he wanted it to.

"Hey, everybody. Looks like the freak wants to try her kung-fu moves on ol' Andrew here." One of Andrew's friends snickered after another one of his friends, I think his name was Billy, commented on my sister.

Andrew sneered as he looked from my sister to the girl who's now grinning like a madman, and everybody, not including me and the two new girls, cheer Andrew when he suddenly punched my sister across the face, but she acted as if she didn't feel anything except a cool early spring breeze, despite the bruise that instantly formed on her pale skin.

In her case, it was her right cheek that bore the distinct hint that she'd been hurt, but that pitiful excuse for an injury didn't even come close to the other wounds she'd received in her short life. Sharon's lips curled into a demented sneer, and she laughed in a high-pitched squeal of delight as she grappled Andrew by the scruff of his shirt and hauled him so close to her face they were just a few inches apart, her hazel-blue pools narrowed warningly as she watched on in silent morbid amusement seeing the poor bastard's dark blue eyes widened and a few lone beads of sweat trickled down his light skin.

"Nice try, asshole. But now it's my turn." _Uh oh. Her eyes are giving off that your-ass-is-mine vibe again._

With those words, Sharon curled her good hand, her right, into a fist and, giving her tormentor no warning whatsoever, she laid one on him directly between the eyes, a blackish purple bruise started to form almost instantly, but Andrew looked dangerous and he snarled angrily before he attempted to hit Sharon with a right hook.

Sharon caught his fist just inches from the left side of her head, that surely would've resulted in a concussion if she hadn't grabbed his wrist in the nick of time and, smirking devilishly, a demonic battle cry erupted from her pink rose lips as she tossed the little prick over her good shoulder. A chorus of "Hey Andrew, teach that bitch a lesson", and "Teach her what it means to be the school's male wrestling champion!"

"You forget that I'm the school's _female_ wrestling champion!" I surprised myself when an animalistic battle cry came from deep within my chest as I charged at my sister's latest victim, who would also be my latest experiment to see who was the strongest, and I tackled him to the ground, he tries to push me off but it doesn't help him any. I sneered sadistically as I straddled his waist and, my blue-green-gray eyes flash dangerously, I lifted my good hand up and smack-backhanded him several times. While this occurred, Sharon and the two new girls watched on from the sidelines, cheering me on with comments like "Go, Chelsea! Kick that fucker's ass!" (Sharon), "Kill him! Or better yet, hang him after you've laid the beat down of a lifetime on his ugly mug!" (Albino girl), and "Go, go! You keep rocking on, Chelsea!" (Italian girl)

"What's all this ruckus? What's- Ms. Marquette? What in God's name are you doing to Mr. Greenriver?"

_Fuck. Shit. Damn. Damn it to Hell. Son-of-a-bitch._ By this time, I was breathing heavily and wiping the few spots of blood off my hands on Andrew's ripped shirt, but Sharon and our two newest friends looked like three little kids who wandered into the biggest candy store; my sister shrieked with delight when she ran over to me and hauled me off the bloody, bruised face of my latest victim who staggered to his feet and instantly ratted on me and my sister.

Of course he also threw in the fact that the two new girls had done nothing to stop them, but then they countered his accusations by saying that he'd punched my sister first, and she struck back in self-defense. They didn't add the apparent fact that I had nearly beaten the poor bastard within an inch of his life.

"I'd like to see the five of you in my office after lunch today." Mrs. Martin said in a stern voice.

_Looks like I'll be getting detention for the next two weeks. Oh well. It was worth it. _I couldn't wait for lunch though, mainly because that was going to be the time when Sharon exacted her revenge on that bitch Monica Belle for egging her own house, and then complaining to her dear Mummy and Daddy that my sister did it.

Of course they had to inform my mother of what my sister didn't do, and when I attempted to convince her of the opposite, but she wouldn't hear any of what I had to say; she didn't care if Sharon was innocent or not. "I knew that girl would bring shame unto this family sooner or later. It just goes to show you that you can never trust that little slut to do nothing right for herself, or for those who care for her!" Those were her exact words, and when I told Sharon about what the Old Hag said to me, she cursed that filthy whore by saying she hoped that Mum burned in Hell.

The next day, I woke up to hear Mum shrieking like a wounded banshee, and when I went downstairs to see what was wrong, I was both shocked and a tiny part of me cried in joy seeing that bitch's favorite dress erupting in flames. She sustained a few minor second-degree burns, but unfortunately for me and my sister, she was permitted to come back home the next week, and she wasn't too pleased seeing the same glare of morose that crossed Sharon's features.

_She's going to receive the most rude awakening of her life at 12 o'clock today. Hope Sharon did what she did when we were in elementary school. That'll be a day I'll never forget, not in a million years._

Author's Thoughts: Bet you're all wondering what Sharon did back in her childhood, eh? Well, you're gonna have to wait for my next chapter I'm afraid. If any of you have any ideas, or suggestions, that I can use for the fics that I haven't updated on for a while, then please message me! Reviews are always appreciated!


	4. Bloody Nightmare

Disclaimer: I don't own Silent Hill. It belongs to Konami. I only own ONE of my OCs, myself and the plot. Enjoy!

RockinMuffin and BrownEyedAlbino/FrenchgirlfromEngland, I hope neither of you don't hate me after you've both read this chapter. Also, CERM, I used your name 'cause it was unique and not one that I've heard of before. I hope it's alright with you. ... Is it? RockinMuffin, to answer your question, yes, the Italian girl in the third chapter was you. Hope you don't mind.

And I hope you don't mind what's gonna happen to you in this chapter. On with the story!

**(Sharon)**

_It's official.. my life has been shot to Hell_._ Literally. Meh. At least the new girls aren't who I normally think new female students are; egoistical bitches._

"So, Ms. Marquette, what do you and your sister have to say for yourselves?" Our school principal, Ms. Martin, narrowed her sharp honey eyes, observing me like a hawk through her glasses, clasping her fingers together between her chubby face –which made my sister's look small – and pointed her index fingers at me.

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but that cunt over there," I paused to incline my enraged hazel-blue eyes toward Andrew who was holding an ice pack against the worst bruises on that ugly mug of his, "Hit me first. I struck back in self-defense. But what the fuck do _YOU_ know? Maybe you've officially gone blind in both eyes, or perhaps your eyes are too small for that thick head of yours." I hissed acidly, baring my canine teeth while an animalistic snarl resonated from deep within my chest. To say the World's Fattest Woman was shocked was an understatement; she looked downright homicidal from where I was sitting which, in my case, meant that Chelsea and I were sitting on the damned leather sofa for the past half hour.

_Aw_..._ look at that, Chels_._ I've hurt the bitch's feelings, have I? Well, too fucking bad_.

"Ms. Marquette, I demand that you apologize this instant! Unless you wish to receive detention for the next three weeks!"

_Damn this obese bitch to Hell and back_._ She has a nice set of lungs on her, though now my ears are ringing from her incisive whining_.

"Fuck no. And furthermore, why the hell do I have to get detention for? Just because I defended myself?"

"Alright, four weeks!"

"Ooooooh, aren't we the almighty one? I could do that standing on my fucking head."

"Five weeks!"

"Um, Sharon. Maybe you shouldn't be having a shouting match right now-" Chelsea muttered timidly, placing her hand on my shoulder while chewing her bottom lip anxiously.

"Hold on, Chels. Let the bitch speak for herself. Now what were you saying? I couldn't really catch all of whatever the hell you just said; maybe due to the nonsense you call talking is giving me a headache."

I couldn't help but smirking to myself in satisfaction after my little rant there. _God, it felt good to get that off my chest_._ She's been strutting around the school like she owns the place; she's always had it out for me, just like that damned paperboy_.

"I expect you to be back here after school, Ms. Marquette. In fact, don't come back to my school for the next month. Until after school today to the fifteenth of January, you are suspended."

"Good, beats being at this hellhole any day. Oh, and before I forget, I'm gonna leave you with a few parting words, you little bitch: three of your family members will die soon. Might want to keep an eye on them."

_Hmm_..._ what made me say that? Usually, I don't say anything that bad_..._ Oh well, so long as it doesn't really happen, it's not my problem_.

"Fuck. I gotta use the john, Chelsea." I muttered to my sister under my breath while waltzing out of the office.

"Okay. Just make sure you're home in time, because we have to-" I was already inside the bathroom so I didn't really catch the rest of what she said. I sighed heavily to myself and shut the door behind me, a soft _click_ echoed across the empty restroom when I fastened the lock on the door. Suddenly, my body felt very weak, like I'd just gained a hundred pounds; I groaned to myself under my breath, beads of sweat trickled steadily down over my pale cheeks, making it look as if I were crying, and I gripped the sink counter in desperation with my hands, my hazel-blue eyes pierced the mirror's crystalline surface under the fluorescent lights humming a melancholic melody above my dark hair.

"What the fuck's going on here? I was fine just a moment ago.. What.. the.. hell?" My reflection in the mirror wasn't the same as I expected it to be. My pale complexion seemed more pale than usual, and the all-too-familiar pain in my chest I experienced the previous night coiled itself around my heart and lungs, thus cutting off the blood circulation that would've been delivered to the rest of my body and my air supply.

With each breath of air I took, it was like the next breath was more difficult, shallow gasps burst through my parched lips as I clutched my throat with my right hand and ripped the collar of my black shirt with my free hand in desperation for the oxygen that my body craved for. I thought that it was my tight shirt that was the cause of my sudden incapability to breathe properly, but I soon found that that wasn't the case for me; it was worse than that.

Blood oozed from the corner of my eyes, trickling in a unnerving steady flow down my pale cheeks and gathered between my breasts, right where my heart drummed ever so slowly, the sickening shade of crimson stained my hair and clothes, in a matter of seconds it finally stopped at the soles of my sneakers.

Now the blood wasn't only bathed my clean clothes in a thick layer of the sticky red sea, but soon it recurred with staining the bathroom floor, and the nauseating sight of the superfluous amount of the crimson liquid eventually trickled down the stalls, toilets and gurgled as it shot up from the drainage holes, and the ceiling no longer existed.

The ceiling resembled an endless sea of darkness, but chains hung in a haphazard fashion while they began a cacophony melodious song as they struck the walls and, occasionally, each other. A song that slowly burrowed itself within my brain, and etched disturbing mental images inside my mind, threatening to toss me over the edge soon if the accursed noises didn't stop pounding into my sanity; I was sure I had finally gone insane; like that crazed boy who axed one hundred students on my favorite anime show.

Blood.

Screams.

Darkness.

A raging sea of flame.

A young girl screaming in agony.

_Someone_..._ someone's laughing_.

Laughing in a manner that was so horrendous and inhuman that I wondered if the person was actually human or otherwise.

_Fire_._ The fire's burning_._ Burning everything_.

Multiple burning seas of flames licked away at the bathroom's interior, but soon the hellish tongues of flame reached me and I sucked in a labored breath of air, trying to stifle the blood-curdling scream that instantly rushed in my throat. For a split second, I was sure I could hear a child shrieking for her mother to let her out of her room as she banged her tiny fists in desperation on her bedroom door, where she was locked in; where her own mother had secured her. In the mirror, a scorching sea of flame burst to life right behind me, and my body slowly turned to gaze with a sudden curiosity.

However, when I gazed at my reflection out of the corner of my eyes, I noticed something that fit with the disturbing circumstances that was obscuring my dazed mind. My eyes.. they're not the normal hazel-blue mixture I'd grown fond of.. now they looked a bit like..

Red?

_Wait, what the hell is that in the corner? What's going on here? What? Why-_

**(Carla)**

"_Awww_... crap." Normally when all your classmates desks are facing the wall, and everyone's either staring at you like you suddenly grew three heads, or bent over their test papers still scribbling their answers frantically, it's never a good sign.

"Quite correct, Ms. Carla. Now if you're finished disrupting the rest of the class, please get a scantron and test paper, and take your seat." Grumbling angrily to myself, I snatched a test paper and scantron off the desk, choosing to avoid looking at everyone and gazed at the floor, looking for a spare seat and there was one.. way in the back. _Peachy_.

Even though I had arrived ten minutes late, there was still plenty of time for me to finish. I didn't know who I was sitting next to until I was finished the test halfway through. Apparently, my pencil chose to attempt a daring escape as it rolled off my desk and hit the floor with a dull _click_.

"Today's not one of my best days." I mumbled to myself, bending down to snatch it off the barely immaculate floor. My crimson eyes widened when I looked upward at the person sitting to my left, with her head bent down as if she were trying to hide something she didn't want anyone else to see. Great. It was Maria Queen. The "Freak Queen" as she was quickly dubbed.

In my opinion, she was a nice girl, though I didn't really know her that well to say anything else about her personality. _I'm a pretty good judge of character_.

She was also pretty, in the approachable sense anyway, and from a male's standpoint, of that I was sure. _I don't get how half the male student body in this school can call a girl like her a freak; the only time she acted anything like a freak was when that girl and her sister beat the shit out of that little prick who'd been bullying the poor girl in the halls earlier_.

Out of the corner of my gaze, I saw that Maria's desk had begun to rattle violently, as though an earthquake shook the very ground where her seat was, not only that but the blood started to gather in a pool under her seat, and it was all over the wooden desk.

The blood seemed to be originating from her chest, drenching the barely immaculate classroom floor with enough force within its crimson river that it trailed down her desk and made its way over to mine. Maria was breathing so slowly as she remained hunched over her desk and her body shook; I feared that she would soon lose conscious. Startled, I bounded from my seat, staring at the girl with wide eyes as my mind fluttered about in hysteria, wondering if it was all just a nightmare. Wondering if anybody else could see what was happening, and soon, hopefully, they'd realize that Maria's not a freak.

"_Holy_... _shit_..." My voice seemed distant to my ears, like the pathetic attempt a child would make to be overheard despite her siblings quarreling. The screech of metal scrapping against linoleum alerted Mrs. Jones the moment when I sprung out of my seat.

I didn't know I was backing away until my back connected with the heater, which was no longer brewing heat into the room since it had mysteriously shut off on its own accord, beads of cold perspire dripped steadily down my pale forehead and matted my snow white hair to my face. I placed my right hand over my chest, trying to cease the fearful rhythm my racing heart made. The rest of the kids were freaking out too.

_Now they see what's going on?_

"..._ Oh my god_..._ what's happening to her?"_

"..._ I knew she was a freak_._ I told you so_._"_

"_Oh Jesus_. _Poor girl_._"_

"_Tell me I'm dreaming_._" _

"_Is this some kind of sick joke?"_

"_That's disgusting_._"_

Mrs. Jones was screaming in hysterics into the phone, yelling for the secretary to send someone down immediately. A few of the students who weren't either staring at the blood stained floor in disbelief, or whimpering to themselves while they huddled in the corners muttering complete nonsense to themselves, were banging on the classroom door frantically, and some were trying to smash the windows open, but neither of their so-called plans worked as effectively as they thought it would.

Maria's light chocolate eyes rolled up in her head and she tipped sideways to the left, hitting the floor with a faint _splat_ due to the superfluous amount of blood staining her clothes and soaking her light brown hair in a thick layer of the sticky liquid.

_Has it finally happened? Have I finally gone insane? Or_..._ or is this just a nightmare?_

**(Maria)**

Why? Why would something like this hurt so freaking much?

A sinus headache _and_ a Geography test out of the blue? _C'mon Mrs_._ Teacher Person, give me a break for fuck sake. It's only my first day here and already I'm sweating bullets over a test that I wasn't aware of_._ I'm too tired for this shit._

I might as well fail this piece of crap "surprise quiz" and get it over with. Let's see now..

_List three main causes of the Green House Gases and how they affect the earth's atmosphere._

1. Your mom.

2. Your mom.

3. _Uhhhhh_... your mom?

_That's how I usually win if I'm up half the night cramming five pages of notes into my useless brain_. _Great_._ Just fucking great_._ Three more pages to bullshit my way through_. _Annnddd, that's just freaking lovely. My pen's sprung a goddamn leak, right when I'm in the middle of flunking a fucking test here._

"_Stupid_..._ useless_..._ piece_..._ of_..._ crap_._" _With every curse word imaginable that burst from my lips in a hushed whisper, I banged the faulty pen on the desk, silently hoping that all the noise I was making, that was most likely disrupting the silent class, would eventually make my otherwise useless pen to start working.

_Hmm_.. _what the hell?_ _My pen's leaking red ink_.

Something was seriously fucked up here. Pens were rarely red, and I was pretty sure mine had blue ink.. _no wait, that's not right either_. My pen was in fact a _pencil,_ and it was pencils that were rarely red, so where the hell did all the red stuff come from? "Damn, it's freaking cold in here." I softly muttered to myself in calm anger, placing my freezing hands between my armpits. I read somewhere that the armpits was where heat left the body besides the head. _Weird_.._ it's usually not that cold in mid-December,_ _but now it is_.

_Now what's going on?_ The red stuff wasn't leaking from my pencil anymore, but now it started to stain the white cotton material of the sleeves on my jacket, dripping from someplace up to where..

_Oh shit!_

Panicking, my lukewarm hands immediately flew up to my face, my fingers poking and prodding my nose. _Nose bleed?_ I sighed softly to myself when I withdrew my hands away from my face and brought them to my eyes. _No specks of blood there_. Frowning in silent confusion, I turned my hands over to inspect the back of my hands, my light chocolate eyes grew to the size of dinner plates and my eyebrows creased in bewilderment. _No blood there either_. _That's good_. _All clear in the nasal area, and none of it's on my hands either_. _But what the hell is this? Some kind of fucked up nightmare? It has to be blood! There's no other explanation for this bullshit_. ..._ Shit!_

An albino girl with red eyes came in late, drawing attention from the rest of the class. Good.

_That's right, little girl_. _Go to the other side of the room_. _No, what are you doing, kid? Don't come near me_. _Go sit somewhere else, anywhere but here_... _or sit right the fuck next to me_. _Lovely choice you made, girl_.

I bent my head down slightly enough so as to hide the apparent fact that my seat was now overflowing with blood, but I wasn't having much luck in the Hide Evidence of Blood department. _God, can somebody explain to me in plain English just what the fuck's going on here? At least then I won't be as pissed off like I am right now_. I thought about wiping away some, if not most, of the blood with my jacket and use my test paper as a tissue of sorts to clean up the rest of the mess.

_No, wearing white_._ Qualifies as a bad idea_.

_Must_.._ find_.._ tissues_.._ to_.._ clean_.._ up_.._ mess_.

My light chocolate eyes flashed briefly in annoyance when I peered up from my desk, looking around the class to see if anyone had noticed the blood, and I smiled faintly. _Good_.. _at least nobody's looking_. _Everybody's either bent over their test paper with their pencils and pens scribbling furiously, or peeking at the person next to them for their answers, or biting their nails anxiously_.

What's worse, I had to scan the classroom for a good ten minutes before my otherwise impaired vision (can you believe the sarcasm in that statement?) spotted a box of Kleenex propped up on Mrs. Jones cabinet like a forbidden treasure. _Now to get off my lazy ass and get 'em_.

My Mom once said that I was like a bunny. I guess constant movement was good for rabbits, and since they normally do tend to run away at the first sign of danger, they probably have a lot of experience in that type of situation; running away I mean. I did a lot of that too. Like tapping the heel of my sneakers on the tile floor, or drumming my fingers on my desk, and I often run like a bat straight out of Hell if I was ever faced with a situation that wasn't to my liking. I didn't realize I was repetitively tapping my pencil on my chest until I noticed something that I had been dreading; something sticky and sickeningly moist drip through my fingers and made soft _tip_ noises when they hit the desk.

_Why is my eraser all bloody?_

"Oh... God..." I whimpered softly in fright, like a scolded puppy. _What the hell is wrong with me?_

My light chocolate brown eyes rolled up in my head, and my body slowly tipped sideways to the right, hitting the frigid classroom floor with a dull thud. And then everything went black.

Author's Thoughts: Sooo. I've updated yet again, but I probably won't be updating my other fics for a while.. blame my no-good brain for not spewing out good suggestions. If any of my reviewers have any ideas that I can use for any of my fics that I haven't updated on for a nice while, please message me. I will credit any, or all, of you if you choose to do so. Review please!


	5. A Song For Mama

Disclaimer: I don't own Silent Hill. It belongs to Konami. Suing me would be considered harassment in my eyes. Also I don't own Stephan King or anything else mentioned in this chapter.

Note: The poem in this chapter is a result of me being in my usual depressed mood, so don't say I stole from anyone, and no it doesn't come from the feelings I have for my mother 'cause I don't hate her, as I mentioned in chapter two. So please don't send me bad reviews. Mentions about my poem would be nice.

**(Chelsea)**

I'd never really understood why people get so freaked at the sight of it; blood. What made it so vile and poisonous? Sure, it was a little creepy if you'd be seeing it for the first time, like witnessing one of your friends falling off their bike and getting a nasty injury on their knees. But hell, that was no excuse for "professional people" like doctors or medical examiners to faint at the sight of it their first day on the job.

_You can be seriously wounded and not be bleeding the tiniest bit, in my opinion_. _Perhaps_.. _the blood is only there just to let us be aware of its existence_.

_Or it could be my A_._D_._D_. _acting up again_.

But even though my entire classroom was packed full of punks, preps, Goths, and our teacher seemed to realize the dire situation they faced, it didn't mean that I couldn't see our learning space slowly, but surely, decaying before my eyes, like it was taken out of one of Stephan King's twisted Gothic horror novels and made into a life-like slasher movie.

... I was hoping the guy with the hockey mask and wielding a machete wasn't waiting behind the door that ten or so students were banging their fists on in final acts of desperation, shrieking like caged animals, raking their sanious fingernails on the rotted mahogany door frame, and the screams were so loud my ears was sure to start leaking blood any minute. "Chelsea, get away from the blood! It.. it just keeps staining your clothes!"

"Huh?"

_Oh right_.. _well_.. _I'm glad I don't shop at Hot Topic anymore_.

Call it temporary insanity, but everything around me seemed to be slowly freezing, almost resembling the effects of your brain slowly melting into a pool of useless information and memories that you once knew, but it was like.. I felt like I was slowly dying. I couldn't help sensing something strangely familiar about my current dilemma; cold chills danced up and down my spine and my hearing and sight eventually started to fade, until all I could hear was the cacophony chorus of noises; hoarse screams; incoherent ramblings of my clearly deranged classmates; the repugnant odor of blood.

Mandy Summers, the girl who told me to move, suddenly gasped and pointed at something behind me, but for some reason I found my body wasn't corresponding with the numerous abrupt signals my brain sent to my limbs.. it was like somebody had poured super glue on my seat. "Oh my god. Chelsea, she was... ... ... ... pointing at you." Mandy murmured, but only loud enough for me to hear, her bright gray eyes grew wider with each passing second.

"What?"

Confused, I slowly twisted my head at an impossible angle, my jaw nearly hit the metallic floor when my tri-colored eyes caught sight of the disturbing scene at the back of the classroom; Maria's small body still lay in a crumpled pile of limbs, the poor girl's chest gushed a superfluous amount of blood and continued to taint the once immaculate ground. It was like Maria's chest just sprung a leak. Nobody made a move to assist the wounded teenager; it was like she were the exact type of disease, if not worse, that everybody believed my sister to be, and I thought I was the only person who hadn't either scrambled or even backed away from her.

"Maria! Oh my god! She's bleeding! Somebody stop the blood!" The hysterical voice was Mandy's again, that much I could tell, and just had they did the moment when Maria started to bleed, nobody moved an inch; then she suddenly stretched her light tanned arms outward, as if she were expecting some form of comfort from this nightmare, but after seeing that I wouldn't be budging from my bloody seat anytime soon, her arms slowly fell to her side and she looked ready to cry.

_Does she actually think that'll save her? Save them? Save any of us?_

Mrs. Jones was now screaming hysterically into the phone, which had apparently gone dead, but she kept pressing the button for the office repetitively, beads of lukewarm perspire trickled down her dark skin and matted her light blonde hair to her face.

From where I was, the blood started from Maria, who still laid in a pile of bloody limbs at the furthest corner opposite of me, and the injured girl's blood had finally made a crimson sea that stretched all the way from one side of the classroom to the other, and slowly trailed off to the left, over to.. Carla? _I think that's her name_. Everyone who wasn't rocking back and forth and muttering pure nonsense to themselves, or hiding in the occasional shadowy places across the small room and crying, were screaming their heads off like wounded animals.

It took me a good five minutes, maybe more, to realize that.

An overwhelming sense of nostalgia brewed in the pit of my subconscious, well that and the bewilderment I felt, and I couldn't help but sense that all this, this entire nightmare, seemed strangely familiar. _Wait_.. _is that what I'm feeling?_ ... _Why?_ _Why would this be so familiar to me?_

I hadn't experienced such astounding circumstances before.. did I? That albino girl, Carla, and I shared glances when my tri-colored eyes caught the disturbing sight of Mandy and a few other students still pounding relentlessly on the classroom door, shouting for someone to unlock the door, but I could tell that it was bolted shut from the outside, and all the racket they did was giving me a major headache.

Then I noticed Carla started mumbling inaudible words to herself with her eyes closed and her head bent down, her snow white hair shielding her eyes from the nightmarish room. Was she trying to somehow block out the reality of what was happening to us? Now that I was thinking of it, what exactly would eventually become of us?

Looking around the room, I also took notice of the decaying state of our former bright classroom, the school walls were crusted with mold and reeked a foul odor of blood, as if they were in the first stages of rotting away, the windows that weren't attempted to be broken by the few classmates, who wielded chairs and schoolbooks, already were shattered and every few inches away from the windows shone with glistening shards of glass, and soon more screams soon mingled with the cacophony chorus of students who'd been screaming earlier.

One particularly loud scream rang in my ears, and when I looked to my right I saw that three students were leaning out the window, obviously holding onto the legs and clothes of whoever it was who was outside dangling between the balance of life or death, but soon four screams shattered the maddening silence; I knew, before their heart-wrenching cries ended and the night air was filled momentarily with the ear-splitting noises of their bones breaking on impact, that they wouldn't live to see another day; the ground laid two stories off from the second floor of the school.

Looking back at Carla, I saw that she was still muttering nonstop to herself, like a child attempting to savor the last shreds of sanity and humanity she still possessed before she lost all sense of judgment, remorse, and mainly her emotions. Maybe she already had lost it? Or was she still trying to escape from this hellish nightmare? If anything, I'd bet that it was the latter, and it was the best choice of action I'd seen all day.

And good timing on my part too. The moment I stood from my now bloody seat, my legs suddenly, and quickly, gave in and I slumped to the floor; in five seconds my knees were propped up against my chest and I hugged them tight, tears brimmed at the corner of my eyes, but I fought back the tears threatening to make me look like a pathetic crybaby than an eighteen-year-old-going-on-nineteen student who was clearly deprived of a properly functioning mind.

But soon, within the next hour or so, I knew I'd go insane, crazy. Just like.. _Sister?_

When I looked up at Mrs. Jones desk my tri-colored eyes slowly widened when I saw a sanious dagger being repetitively plunged in and out of our teacher's bleeding chest, and the person inflicting such torment upon her, and who immediately burst out laughing, was Sharon.

Her clothes, hair and face was drenched in blood, but her eyes were no longer the hazel-blue shade I used to love; now her eyes resembled a fiery crimson color that illuminated the pitch black darkness that surrounded me, due to the fact that the overhead fluorescent lights had shattered of their own accord. Sharon, obviously displeased that our teacher was now deceased, slowly turned and glared disapprovingly down at me, in the same manner as our mother had done countless times to her as a child whenever Sharon was 'blamed' for doing something bad, and her sanious dark hair was matted to her pale skin, but the blood seemed to originate from her eyes.

_How could that have happened? _

My sister stopped her predatory advances just inches from my cowering, shaking form on the floor; however, the tears that I so desperately fought to not allow to flow down my alabaster cheeks slowly trickled down past my face, over my jaw and soon gathered in a moist pool across the collar of my fishnet shirt, underneath I wore a tank top shaded in a mixture of my three favorite colors.

Sharon's index finger slowly indicated at me, her crimson bloody-streaked eyes narrowed dangerously while an animalistic growl came from deep within her chest, and she bent down on her heels like a crouching tiger preparing to pounce on its unsuspecting prey, the red tinted dagger clattered to the metallic floor and her fingernails were unusually abrupt and long, like that of a demon.

I could sense it. All of her dark emotions that she kept caged within, waiting to free the beast inside the very core of her being. Only instead of looking at me, she was looking at something to my right, but when I followed her gaze, I gasped softly to myself seeing my mother appear out of thin air.

Her nightgown was torn in several places, and her blonde gray-streaked hair appeared to have been ripped off in some places haphazard to her right ear, it was severed right down the middle, her left hand clutched on a wound that stretched all the way from her elbow to ending in a criss-cross injury on her wrist.

Half of me expected Sharon to just pounce on her own flesh and blood, start the never-ending torture that our mother so deserved for all the terrible years she put my sister through, but the other half expected my sister to overcome the anguish I could sense emanating from her demonic, feral expression; she awarded me with a disapproving snarl, baring wolfish canine fangs ending at abrupt points.

Hatred. Wrath. Pain. Depression. Rage. Blood lust. I sensed it all pouring from my sister's blood-voracious glare when she stared at me for a few endless moments; for a moment, I was all but sure I saw a faint flicker of the sibling I knew and loved so deeply, but then all signs of her former human self was gone and then she pounced on our mother.

Staring ahead at the blackboard, I flinched hearing the blood-curdling shrieks of pain that burst from my mother's mouth as my sister began slowly killing her, but I couldn't bear myself to look on as our mother died at the hands of Sharon, who growled when my mother attempted to hit her and I saw this happen because I witnessed it occur out of the corner of my eye; she rewarded the blood ridden bitch by grabbing her already wounded wrist and expertly breaking it.

By this time, I had clamped my sweaty palms over my now sensitive ears, they were to surely pop from the mind-numbing noises that echoed all around me, and no matter how much I tried to block out the horrific sounds of the endless screaming, it only got louder. Suddenly, all the screams and noises ceased, and when I opened my eyes it was like I was standing on a darkened stage under the spotlight, turning around I noticed Sharon and Carla was now standing upright, and Maria was the picture perfect replica of a female version of the Holy Spirit Himself being nailed at the cross.

Well, the places where Carla and Maria stood were slowly engulfed by the darkness, but my sister and I were standing haphazard to the blackboard, a soft noise came from Sharon as if she were trying to clear her throat, but she clutched her throat and collapsed to the cold shadowy floor on one knee. Shallow breathing grew hitched in her throat and she coughed harshly a few times, like something foul had gotten lodged in her, and she finally collapsed onto the floor, bent over and trying to throw up whatever it was, but soon she too disappeared and the noises of her hacking and coughing grew fainter.

I rubbed my eyes and blinked stupidly a few times, wondering to myself if all the events that I witnessed just then had been all but a nightmare, and I was about to find my way out when something red illuminated the shadows at the exact spot where my sister had been just moments earlier. Fueled by curiosity, I cautiously edged my way over and peered down at the words that appeared from out of nowhere, my tri-colored eyes slowly grew wide as I read what had been 'written'.

_A Song For Mama_

_Here I lie all broken and twisted,_

_I can only pity you Mama that you had to miss it,_

_My childhood_._ My schooling grades_._ My birthdays_._ My falls_.

_It is Her, the Holy Mother, whom now calls,_

_Seeking the countless sacrifices that the Red Demon missed,_

_All the Lost Souls have finally bear witness,_

_To the rebirth of the Virgin Saint, the Holy Mother,_

_Though something about you does seem rather bothered_.

_  
So here is a song that I wrote for you Mama,_

_But it wasn't for pleasure or that I was bored,_

_It was because of my hatred for you_.

_And do you know why I despise you so?_

_Simply because you never loved me,_

_You never hugged or kissed me goodnight,_

_You didn't chase away the Bogeyman that dwelled in my closet,_

_Instead it was you, who was to protect me, that bore my fright,_

_You who made me shed tears while I hid from you, like the disobedient child that you said I was_.

_Here is my song to you Mama,_

_Mama, I hate you_._ Mama, my hate for you runs so deep,_

_Like the depression that's sure to reap me of my soul, like the nights of restless sleep,_

_Everyday you continue to scorn and mock me, insult my looks and personality,_

_It's nothing personal, Mama_.._ but how I wish you weren't the cause of my dismal serenity, my calamity_.

_So now, because of my undying despair, I lie within my cold shell of flesh,_

_Forever seeking respect, love and guidance, but my sister is where I shall find it best,_

_All the things I wished you'd given to me I have been forced to receive from my own blood line,_

_I suppose you'll never understand just how much I used to loved you, but now I'm slowly dying_.

_By: Sharon M_.

"Ms. Marquette... ... ... Ms. Marquette... ... ... Chelsea? Are we too loud for you? Or is there something that you wish to explain to the rest of the class?"

"Ugh.. huh?" _What the hell's going on?_ I silently cursed myself, wishing that a giant black hole would just appear beneath my feet and suck me into oblivion, thus damning me, or saving me, for an eternity. At that particular time in my life I just didn't give a fuck, all I wanted to know was what in Hell's name just happened to me; had I been dreaming?

Or maybe my own nightmares were finally getting to me, or maybe I was simply going mad, if I wasn't insane already to begin with. Stifled giggling and hushed whispers fluttered about the room, and my complexion paled a few shades, but that I was thankful for that I didn't blush like everybody else whenever they were embarrassed, and I knew I'd be the laughing stock of the entire student body for the next three months.

_I'm gonna have to leave a trail of bloody teeth and broken bones from the school doors to the fucking parking lot just to get all those stupid little fatheads to stop laughing and pointing at me_."Umm... I'm terribly sorry, Mrs. Jones. It won't happen again." I muttered apologetically, slipping back into my otherwise uncomfortable seat. _Great_. _How wondrously fan-fucking-tastic_.

I was already unpopular as it was, and judging by the numerous mischievous looks that my classmates were sending my way, it seemed I would get to bash some heads in after school today. Yet again. On that oh-so-joyful note, I probably looked even more retarded than usual, standing there like the fucking moron that I was with a shocked look on my face when I noticed that everything was normal. "Ms. Queen? Is everything alright back there?" Raising an eyebrow in confusion, I inclined my head backwards a little and saw Maria gazing around the classroom, looking as stunned as a bat, or to be more precise, a deer caught in the oncoming headlights of a vehicle.

"Um.. y-yeah." She muttered before letting out an unconvincing cough. "I have a cold, Mrs. Jones. Can I go to my locker and get some cough drops?" Mrs. Jones sighed heavily. "If it would prevent more distractions, then yes, go ahead. And Ms. Carla? What new disturbance do we have back there?"

Carla's pale complexion brightened a few shades when the cherry red color splashed across her clearly flushed cheeks deepened noticeably, she chewed on her bottom lip feverishly and stuttered. "But.. didn't any of you.. it was like.. Maria was.. and you.." The albino trailed off when she glanced my way, and it deepened my confusion. _Did we both 'See' the same thing?_ _Had she 'Seen' what I saw before the aftermath of that nightmare? Or had Maria made us see it? What about Sharon? Or was it my sister who made us see it?_

Somebody from the far left of the room was quick to mutter "Jeez, what a freak, eh? And I thought the Ice Queen was queer. The Old Lady over there is a nice addition."

It was Monica Belle. But from the look Carla was sending the school slut, she was obviously resisting all temptation to tackle the bitch to the ground and start slapping her around while pulling her hair, but instead the female albino muttered a few soft words of obscenities under her breath. Something else clicked in my photographic memory. I heard that you couldn't read in dreams because the left side of your brain was asleep, but I was able to read the message that had been written on the chalkboard in the nightmare in the same blood that once stained my clothes.

**_Come home._** What did I have to go back home for?

Author's Thoughts: I bring you dreadful news, my faithful reviewers. School shall be restarting on Wednesday, so I shall try to update as much as possible, and chapter two of Thief King's Treasure will be out hopefully sometime today. Don't ask about Young Love, because I don't know when chapter 10 will be out. Review please.


	6. Ice Cream Anyone?

Disclaimer: I don't own Silent Hill. No suing for you or your lawyers. Yay for me on that part.

I now LOVE the number thirteen, but not because it's considered unlucky to many people, but rather that's how many reviews I got so far for this story, and only for a total of five chapters! Wheee! Now I'm all happy, and to make up for not updating for a while this chapter will be a bit longer.. or as long as I can make it without screwing anything up. Enjoy my faithful reviewers!

Note: At certain points in the chapter, I will use childhood vocabulary, so be on the lookout for a flashback.

**(Maria)**

_Seriously, would it kill me to remember from now on that not only do I have to worry about drooling like some retard all over my desk, but now I have to worry about acting like some scardy cat? _

My locker wasn't even five feet away from the classroom door, but it sure as hell felt a lot like a fucking mile to me, or maybe that's because of the enormous migraine I had thanks to that nightmare, and now I was in desperate need of medicine. While I kept urging my otherwise temporarily useless shell of flesh to keep proceeding to my locker, I didn't really understand what it was exactly, whether it was that disturbing nightmare I had _'Seen'_ earlier, or whether it the fact that my sinusitis headache now pulsated between my temporal lobes with ten times the pain, and ten times more annoying, but my vision was horribly distorted.

_Ignore the numb fucking pain pounding into your goddamn skull, you little twit! Just get through the next few minutes, that's all that matters right now._

After reaching my locker and, not to my surprise, found that my locker had been written all over with insults and the like, everything from 'You're a pathetic crack addicted hooker', to 'Do us all a favor and drop dead', but I ignored them all – even the death threats written in blue felt tip marker.

What soon followed was five minutes of cursing due to me silently urging my otherwise useless brain to remember my com numbers.

Groaning in agony, I pounded on the god damned metal door several times after I finally did remember my locker com, but the god-forsaken locker door wouldn't open, and when that didn't do wonders for me I gave up, turning around and sliding down the cold lime green metal, hitting the floor with a soft _thud!_ All I wanted was some fucking Extra Strength Tylenol, but _noooo_ that was simply _toooo_ much to ask, and my splitting migraine had grown into a full fledged headache, threatening to sever my head completely in half.

"This isn't one of my better days." I murmured half-heartedly to myself, removing my glasses and rubbing my light chocolate eyes before readjusting them on my button nose.

**Creeaakk!**

Lifting my groggy, obscured sight, straining my near-sighted vision to see more clearly, but when my eyes finally adjusted to the dimly lit floor, I noticed someone staggering drunkenly out of the girl's bathroom, her shallow breathing was horribly choked in her throat, as though she would collapse to the hard tiled ground any minute now. After a few moments of lingering in the shadowy corner, the female recurred with her soft footsteps as did her shallow breathing, but when she stepped into the sunlight filtering in through the windows, I saw that it was the girl who'd helped me against that prick earlier today; Sharon Marquette.

She said nothing when she approached me, but instead she staggered over towards a few lockers away from mine and, while she grabbed a hold of her com and cursed to herself, I failed to notice the other girl who had joined my company, and right then I wished to be anywhere but where I was currently. I tried to make myself less conspicuous as I bent my head down, but that wasn't so easy since it was only the three of us inside the locker room, my light chocolate brown hair drooped in a seemingly deceased manner over my light brown eyes, bathing the right side of my face in shadows; all I cared about was whether or not my irritating migraine would pass soon; preferably within the next three minutes.

The other girl who seemed a bit dressed for the worst, and for the unseasonable weather around these parts had been crying, or coming pretty well damn close to crying, but when she stopped just a few feet away from me; an unnerving silence loomed over the locker room like a black cloud of despair, then I felt someone was even closer to me than the girl standing as still as the Statue of Liberty some ten feet away from where I remained slumped on the floor.

"Why the fuck did you have to go and do that for! Jesus, I mean... I assumed the other bitches and pricks only did that shit to you because they thought it was pretty funny seeing that you never stand up for yourself, but, apparently, you really are a freak. What did you do this time? Pulled another one of your little witch tricks no doubt." The albino girl hissed softly, her crimson eyes flashing with fright and anger.

Seemingly oblivious to everything around us except for the girl's words, I felt my shoulders shaking absentmindedly while a devious smile tugged at the corner of my lips, and before I realized what was happening my fit of giggles escalated into high-pitched laughter; innocent yet so crazed, but the girl didn't seem to think anything was amusing at the moment.

"You think that shit is funny, do you?"

"Yes. Yes, little girl. I _do_ think 'that shit' is funny. Now do me a favor and fuck off before you piss yourself or whatever." I whispered nonchalantly, raising my narrowed eyes upward at the mildly surprised girl. "Little witch tricks." I murmured to myself, returning to my hysterical laughter from before.

However, the young teenage albino didn't seem to think whatever it was that I was laughing at was funny, before I was aware anything had happened, she quickly bent down and I soon found myself silently struggling for my next breath due to her right hand clutched around my throat in a painful death grip, her crimson eyes – when she hauled me in closer towards her – looked a bit darker to me, but maybe that was just the sunlight playing tricks on me.

"Do you think it's funny now?" She smirked, tightening her bone-breaking hold around my neck. My olive complexion eventually started to turn to a dark pinkish red because of the lack of oxygen flowing – or rather not flowing, in my case – into my lungs, I narrowed my light chocolate brown eyes, silently daring her to hit me, and it seemed I had gotten my wish.

Well, almost anyway.

In no less than three seconds, Sharon seemed to have appeared out of nowhere by my side, but she remained silent as her right hand immediately flew to clutch the female albino's wrist in a grip that looked more painful than hers, despite her hand being latched across my throat as it was, and now she had the expression of a demon possessed.

"I really don't want you touching her right now." The girl hissed acidly, but her voice seemed.. I silently urged my brain to think of another word to describe her current state... _Darker_ than normal, as if she had lost all of her humanity long before she came to my aid for the second time today.

"W-what? What do you mean by-"

I could only look on in shock, well half shock and half amusement to be honest, witnessing the stunned look the albino had on her pale features as she laid crumpled on the floor, clutching her bruised cheek in one hand and flexing her clearly sprained fingers on her free hand and, when my own hands immediately flew down to my neck to inspect for any signs of injury, surprise flickered for the briefest of moments in my eyes when I brought them in front of my face.

Nothing. No blood.

I couldn't feel any scratches on my neck and, for some fathomless reason well beyond my own level of comprehension, my neck didn't feel sore like I thought it would be so – believing that my mind was, like always, playing tricks on me – I cautiously edged my way over to the mirror hanging upside down on the locker besides mine.

No hand marks on my neck.

No scratches from when she dug her fingernails into my olive skin, no blood, no bruises. Nothing.

_It's as if that crazy albino never even touched me_. _I felt her grab my throat, I felt myself drifting between unconscious and conscious_._ I felt the pain_._ Oh God_._ That was the worst; not being able to breathe_._ It was like I was dying from the inside_.

_Hmm_.. _what's going on now?_ As if being nearly choked until I passed out wasn't bad enough.. but _this?_

Sharon loomed above the albino holding her wounded cheek, wincing while a tiny trickle of blood seeped past her pale fingers, her lips pulled back to a fearsome snarl, baring uncanny abrupt canines, and when she slowly twisted her head at an impossible angle, my hands immediately flew to cover my gaping mouth as her reflection stared back at me from the left where the mirror hung.

The Sharon I was seeing looked confused, a thoughtful frown creased her blank expression as she averted her attention to the white-haired girl staring back at her in fear and shock on the floor, but the other.. Sharon acted.. pleased. Satisfied. Content that she had brought harm upon the young teen. Her face and hair looked dirty and blood ridden, crimson tears trickled down her blood stained cheeks making her resemble a dead spirit rather than a melancholic human.

Her clothes were torn and charred, multiple lacerations and burn marks discolored her deathly pale skin, her red crusted nails ending at abrupt ends, deadly to sever a person's head from their body with a single, precise swipe. But what startled.. no, terrified me most about her appearance was her eyes. Her pupils were small and in dilatation, adorned with a psychotic, demon-like fire beneath the false innocence she apparently hid within the darkest recesses of her soul, and the unearthly shades of color only caused my frantic heart to race as I began to panic when she grinned with all her teeth displayed to my terror-stricken eyes.

Her eyes, no longer were they intriguing mixtures of colors, but her iris was a cherry red in tone, with a deeper shade brewing with such malevolence that could only be rivaled by Diablo himself where the black was supposed to be, where her pupils were supposed to exist.. only black veins pulsated angrily. Deep within those piercing eyes, I saw many emotions.

Hatred.

Envy.

Blood lust.

Wrath.

Darkness seemed to be the most prominent color and feeling that radiated from her body. Sneering, Sharon edged herself closer, mocking me as she banged her red streaked hands on the mirror's crystalline surface, the sadistic gleam in her eyes practically glowed while the blood oozed from the wounds on her wrists, sliding whimsically over the mirror in countless rivers of red it seemed the mirror itself was bleeding. A soft, primitive noise, that sounded like someone trying to laugh and scream simultaneously burst from her bleeding, cracked lips while she continued her insane playful torture.

Surely I would go mad if she didn't cease with her mind games.

_Stop it._

_/Aw_,_ little Maria doesn't want to play? Little Angel doesn't want to play with the Darkness? Aw, stop being so heartless, little one_.

_I told you to stop it_._ Stop_._ Please_.

_/Why? Surely you can tell me that much, pet_._ Why don't you embrace your Darkness? Your friend certainly has come a long way_;_ but, like so many others before her, she fell victim to the very thing she gave life_._ Pathetic mortal girl_._ Couldn't even restrain me long enough to ensure that I wouldn't hurt the little one over there./_

_SHUT UP! SHUT THE FUCK UP! DON'T SPEAK TO THEM THAT WAY! YOU HAVE NO RIGHT!_

_/Oh? Is that so? Really_._ I never expected a weak crybaby like you to respond with such resentment_._ I like, little Maria_._ Keep it up_._ It only brings out your inner Darkness_._ Look what my weak side did_._ Look what she's created, and it's all thanks that ignorant bitch of a woman; the person whom she called Mommy as a child./_

..._ (Sniffle)_

_/Aw.. why do you cry, little Mia? Why do you shed your tears of sorrow? Pretty little Mia_.

_I'm only fifteen_._ You_.._ you can't treat me like this_._ You don't even know me_.

_/Ohhhh_.._ but I do_._ Silly little Mia_._ I KNOW everything about you_._ I know your likes, your dislikes_._ Your dreams for the future_..._ your horrible nightmares. Everything_._ WE know all about you, sweet_.

_I hate you_._ I fucking HATE you! Do me and Sharon a favor, and fuck off! Leave us the hell alone!_

_/Little Mia, why do you cry? Why do you shed your tears of sorrow? Why do you insist on defying us? Why? Tell us a story, Maria_._ Tell us everything that we don't want to know about you_._ Tell us a story_.

_You're not real_._ Not real, not real, not real_._ You're just a figment of my _imagination. _Leave me alone!_

_/Little Mia_._ Sweet, innocent little Maria_._ Come back to us_._ Embrace your true being_._ Come back to us_.

**(Sharon)**

_What? What the fuck just happened? Why is that albino girl lying down on the floor, and why does my hand hurt so much? _

_Did I_..._ did I do something that I didn't mean to again? Just like that _time.. _in elementary school, when I harmed that boy for calling my sister bad names, but I didn't mean to hurt him_.

_It wasn't my fault_. _Chelsea even said so, but I never really believed her words, and I'm not exactly sure how she felt when she witnessed the kid's blood dripping past the corners of his pale red lips, and oozing out of his ears_.

_**Flashback**_

"You both know we don't want you freaks here! Do us all a favor and go home crying to your Mommy." A six grade boy with dark green eyes and blonde hair sneered when he pushed little Chelsea to the ground again, not caring seeing her multicolored eyes slowly began to glisten with tears as she attempted to stand up, only to be shoved back down to the schoolyard's dust ridden sidewalk again.

"We're only six. Y-you can't tweat us like dis. Stop picking on us, or I'll tell da teachers you guys are being mean." Chelsea whispered softly, actually succeeding in staggering to her feet this time, wiping her tiny hand over her split lip from when the boy who was currently picking on both her and her sister, mainly her, had punched her.

Sharon had remained ominously quiet while all this happened, sitting under the shadows of a large maple tree just a few feet from where her sister stood, her dark chocolate hair spilled down over the school uniform she always dreaded wearing and, with her head buried between her legs, she resembled a pathetic loner; someone who was just begging to be bullied for the rest of her days.

Her shoulders shook when she suddenly, but slowly, staggered to her feet, limping her way over to her sister and, not caring whether she got hurt as well, aided her to stand more properly, her shoulders were still quivering as she idly gazed at the boy who'd been picking on Chelsea ever since recess started, her blank, emotionless stare bored into his mind.

Though what really caught him off guard were the words she spoke.

"I hate you."

"What? That's all you can say after what I did to your little bitch of a sister? 'I hate you'? My mother could've come up with a better comeback." The boy snickered to him and his friends soon joined after, taunting them while fifty other kids soon gathered around the two sisters, joining in the game.

Taunting.

Laughing.

"NO! CHELSEA'S NOT A BITCH!"

Suddenly, all of his awareness regarding his surroundings was instantly cut off, his dark lime green eyes bulged out of his sockets while his clutched at his throat in what appeared to be a useless act of desperation, his white t-shirt and faded blue jeans were being torn away by invisible claws, and soon blood seeped through the places where most of his scarred clothing was torn; mainly his legs and stomach.

"SHE'S NOT! DON'T CALL HER THAT AGAIN! YOU HEAR ME, YOU BONEHEAD? SHE'S NOT, SHE'S NOT, SHE'S NOT!"

It seemed the louder Sharon's usually timid and soft-spoken voice got, the quicker the wounds on the boy's blood ridden body seemed to deepen, causing more deeper, more serious injuries to appear inches away from the ones he sustained minutes earlier, and Chelsea couldn't help but feel scared, if not terrified. seeing the considerable amount of damage her sister inflicted upon her former bully.

He _would_ be her former bully if someone didn't act soon enough. Then not only would Sharon risk being suspended, or possibly even expelled, but also she would have to face the wrath of their mother when they returned home. Chelsea was stunned hearing the painful screams of agony flowing as quick as the crimson liquid trickling past his bleeding lips, three tiny rivers of blood seeped from his head, causing his blonde hair to mat to his face, and quickly became tainted in crimson as did the rest of his now frail appearance.

"I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU!"

Sharon's eyes were now all but a mere reflection of the gentle, timid light that had flickered softly in her multicolored eyes, now burning with murderous intent while the very flames of Hell scorched with unrivaled malice that would put Satan Himself to shame, but the child seemed unaware of the other kids who slowly backed away, their eyes grew wider for every scream that originated from the boy's cracked, swollen, bleeding lips, and for every repetitive, high-pitched banshee-like shriek that came from Sharon.

Chelsea knew that it wasn't wise to consider approaching her, especially since her sister clearly was experiencing a mental – or emotional – breakdown at the moment, but the girl couldn't help but pity the boy who had constantly teased, and taunted, her ever since the siblings started kindergarten six months prior to the incident fated to end unpleasantly; with or without whether the dying young preteen _did_ end up being viciously killed like a pig sent to the slaughterhouse.

Chelsea couldn't believe that her sister was capable of such drastic measures.

"I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU! I **_HATE_** YOU!"

All the young school children could only watch on in shock and utter horror seeing the boy's frail, blood ridden body collapse to the fresh cut grass, fragile blades of emerald green were instantly stained with his blood, occasionally making that eerie _drip-dripping_ noise whenever the boy's glistening specks of crimson tainted the hard earthen ground, but he was- for the most part- barely alive, and still breathing, though it was harsh and shallow.

One of the teachers had been alerted of the incident, but like the fifty or so kids watching on like captivated spectators, she too was utterly shocked at the blood-curdling sight of the schoolboy lying face down on the dusty ground, but she quickly gathered herself and rushed over towards the injured boy, checking and double checking his vital signs, and felt relieved to see that he was- for the moment- not hanging between life and death.

"What are you all waiting for? Get the principal and tell him to send an ambulance right away!"

Directing her attention back at the two siblings who remained silent for the whole three minutes it took for help to arrive, looking on at the child being ushered into the ambulance with the assistance of paramedics, she wasn't exactly quick on her feet, but she was quick to pin the blame on the oldest sister; she had been staring at her hands with the utmost concentration, as though she were in a state between reality and fantasy.

"You two, inside now! The principal will have a long talk with your sister after school, Chelsea. Quickly now, hurry off to class before you both receive detention for being late." She said, more harsher than she intended to.

Both sisters knew their mother wouldn't take the news well when she caught wind of what Sharon had done.

_**End flashback**_

"Uh.. hey, kid. Tell me something.. what the fuck happened just now? I think.. no, that doesn't sound right, does it? I meant I _know_ I did something I didn't mean to." I paused to run both my sweaty hands through my hair, not caring that two lone beads of perspire trickled down the sides of my pale features in an uncanny, unsteady manner, but I was now feeling strangely nostalgic for some unfathomable reason; a reason that caused fear and uncertainty to scorch my mind.

That wasn't saying much coming from me. I usually don't like to stick my nose where it doesn't belong, not unless I can help it, or if I wish to annoy someone. Judging by the look Maria was giving me despite her migraine, I'm sure I must've looked intoxicated to her when I staggered out from the bathroom minutes earlier, with my hair tousled and knotted with loose tangles. Oh God.. I never felt so fucked in my entire life.

Sure, the nightmares were scary as Hell itself half the time, but that time alone in the bathroom had been the worst. Sometimes, if I thought about hurting somebody in a specific manner, like that prick who asked me to dance last month when I clearly told him no, and his legs ended up getting broken from a car accident, it would happen the same way I imagined it.

Being buried alive, strangled to death, drowning. All that and much more. Sometimes, I dreamed about falling off a cliff, and I would feel my legs being broken due to the impact of the fall, then the next day they'd be sore. Other times, I'd dream about being chased by someone with sadistic brown eyes, and then I'd trip and fall just like in those ridiculous horror movies, and the person would loom over me with a knife, and the next day the places where he bit, stabbed, and cut me would ache to no end. (1)

Oh God... the worst was being burned alive. Nothing born of my imagination could amount to the terror I would feel when I woke up, sweating profoundly, my skin felt as if it had actually been set aflame, my breathing always being slower than usual, but the incident in the bathroom was the worst so far; would there be more unsettling encounters, more uncanny nightmares?

"D-don't hurt me. I-I won't intimidate the Freak Queen.. I mean Maria again." She whimpered, slowly crawling away from me every time I took timid baby steps toward her.

"Maria? Oh.. you mean that kid whose ass I saved earlier. Heh, such good times." I sighed deeply in content, stretching and placing my hands at the back of my head, a smile tugged at the corners of my lips.

Her crimson eyes widened witnessing my whimsical persona, she chewed anxiously on her lower lip, twin canine teeth gridded mercilessly into the fragile flesh blood would surely gush to the surface if she didn't stop soon and, feeling slightly guilty (more so than I would really admit to myself) for hurting her unintentionally, ignored the fearful look in her eyes as I stepped closer towards her.

Gripping her by the shoulders, I eased her off the floor, narrowing my eyes when a familiar sensation came over me, like the aroma of an exotic, lingering perfume, but I once again feigned to take notice of her bewildered stare, patting the right side of her face reassuringly.

Awarding me with a faint sincere smile, the albino gazed at Maria behind me, how I knew she was behind me I had no clue, but I frowned seeing the teenager gripping her head as if she were experiencing a mental breakdown; I couldn't help but feel sorry for the olive-skinned teen, never mind that I didn't really know her that well. My hazel-blue eyes narrowed into cat-like slits as I approached her, the uneasy feeling I had sensed returned when I had touched the female albino whose crimson eyes pierced the back of my head (in concern maybe), but I simply ignored the glazed light radiating from the girl's light chocolate eyes, and frustration boiled inside me when she didn't respond when I lightly tapped her face.

_**SMACK!**_

Clearly startled, Maria's eyes flew open, the glazed tint slowly vanished and she looked more normal than I'd ever seen her act, her left cheek bore evidence of the result of my assault on her skin; bright red discolored the olive tone like blood staining the metallic surface of a butcher knife, and I couldn't help but feel shocked at what I hadn't meant to do for the second time today.

"Sorry." I mumbled, watching her as she tentatively rubbed the stinging portion of her face. "... You were hysterical." I added seeing the faint enraged flames brewing inside her seemingly innocent eyes, but she eventually calmed down, much to my relief.

_Hmm_.._ what to do, what to do_._ Now that's over and done with, how should I apologize to these kids? I know!_ Grinning maniacally, I slung my arms over their shoulders, forcing back the laughter that rushed in my throat seeing the twin identical looks of confusion they shot me and, once again, I felt the smile tugging at the corners of my pale lips sensing their uneasiness.

"You two look like you could go for some ice cream. My treat. It's the least I can do for acting like a total bitch to you guys, eh? What do you say?"

Confusion was almost instantly wiped clear off their faces and replaced with childish content, then a few seconds later, I couldn't force the laughter back, throwing my head back I laughed similar to that of my favorite anime character; still chuckling, I gazed at the albino out of the corner of my eye, but I was laughing because she nearly resembled him.(2) Well, she would if she had his eyes, but she was attractive, in the approachable sense, the same went for the demonic angel who hummed a melody of sorts to herself, Spanish it sounded like.

With that, we left the school just as the bell signaling the end of the school day screeched throughout the building, I smiled for the first time in my high school life.

Author's Thoughts: So.. what did you guys think? Sorry for the time it took me to update, but I haven't been in the inspiring mood lately, so I apologize to you all from the bottom of my heart. Review please. Chelsea will be the main event for next chapter. I got a few surprises in store for her. (Grins evilly.)

1- Based purely on fact. One hundred percent true. I have no proof, but I wouldn't make up something like the three paragraphs describing my nightmares.

2- If you watch Yu-Gi-Oh, then I don't need to tell you guys who it is that's mentioned, do I?


	7. Come Home My Child

Disclaimer: Don't own Silent Hill, so please don't sue me. All you'll get is my birthday money.

"Talking"

_Thinking_

**Emphasis/Shouting**

_**(Chelsea)**_

**Creak. **

_Well, Mom's sure to have heard that_._ Lovely_.

I mentally flinched after the heels of my combat boots hit the doorway leading into the dining room and, not wanting to witness my otherwise not-exactly-the-world's-friendliest-woman-to-be-around-in-the-afternoon mother to my current location, I swore under my breath before closing the door softly, an eerie _click_ soon followed and deafened my strangely sensitive ears, causing me to wince as I grasped my face in my small hand.

For some bizarre reason, my home was deadly silent, the kind of silence in horror movies and video games that usually never turns out to be a good thing, but I did have my own style of martial arts at my disposal so I wasn't _that_ concerned. But then a thought that hadn't occurred to me until I decided to raid the refrigerator, looking for a decent afternoon meal, and then it struck me once I finished preparing a sandwich: where was my father?

_Daddy's supposed to be home today. His heart surgery isn't scheduled for until next week._

Silently hoping that he wasn't lying unconscious somewhere in the house without his medication at hand, I chewed thoughtfully on my snack as my heavy footwear – along with the chubbiness of my body, which only made my footsteps seem like minuscule earthquakes – mercilessly struck the polished wooden floor, and I had to clamp down particularly hard on my sandwich to avoid spitting it out onto the floor and letting out my colorful vocabulary in every language I knew.

I didn't want to rouse my father in case he was sleeping, though he was never like my dear Mum when she woke up or was forced to wake up, all he'd do was scold me gently, apologize before patting my head and returning to bed, I usually felt extremely guilty if I was the one who woke him up. But, as of right now in my life, my intuition suddenly kicked in, and then fear slowly began to settle in the furthest corners of my mind, but I hummed a melody to myself as I finished off my snack, dusting the crumbs off my hands while I climbed the stairs.

I paused halfway up the staircase, considering why I was suddenly acting all cautious for just because I didn't hear my father's usual homely activities the moment I stepped in through the front door, but I decided it wouldn't be considerably wise to wander about the silent house in my combat boots, and so I slipped my tiny feet out of my footwear. Smiling to myself, my stocking-covered feet padded along the carpeted floor as I drifted – silent as death – to my parent's bedroom, hoping, praying, that my father would be residing in his bed, snoring as he often did while he slept.

I sucked in a labored breath, my black nails shone in the afternoon sunlight pouring in through the windows as I tentatively reached for the doorknob, only to recoil in either hesitation or surprise, but I shook my head numerous times and, after scolding myself for behaving like an overactive child, braced myself and grasped the cold steel knob in my hand, turning it and hesitantly poking my head inside.

"Daddy?"

_**(Sharon)**_

"Triple fudge, double caramel, and a layer of melted chocolate?" The fruitcake at the counter asked me for the hundredth time in the span of a minute.

_Congratulations, buddy_._ I applaud you for winning the Global Punk Ass Award_._ What are you? Deaf, dumb, blind **and** stupid?_

"Yeah, triple fudge, double caramel, and a layer of melted chocolate on a vanilla cone. Is that so hard for you to understand? And in case you're too stupid to realize it, triple means three times your regular amount, and double simply means twice your regular amount."

I mentally smirked to myself at the typical blondish reaction, my multicolored eyes slowly narrowed in amusement witnessing the stunned look he had on his face growing as his blue eyes widened to the size of dinner plates, and I silently laughed to myself when he turned around grumbling about something to himself under his breath, which had smelled like the back of someone's ass to me.

A not-so-characteristic smirk tugged at the corner of my lips as I leaned on the counter, my breasts hugging the splintered edges when I leaned forward and laid my head to rest between my arms, my fingers lightly rapping against the polished wooden surface in an annoying manner, which I was only doing just to piss the ice cream guy off for simply pissing me off like he'd done earlier.

_I think he's muttering about what a bitch I am_. _Fuck face_. _Hurry up and make my ice cream_.

I'd been called – and heard – worse.

I couldn't suppress the smirk any longer for it soon became plastered across my pale features, and I chuckled again while the insistent drumming sound of my white and black fingernails softly tapping on the hard wood was the only sound that filled the tiny ice cream shop. Well, besides Carla giggling hysterically into her frozen treat, obviously due to a joke Maria surely told her.

Blondie returns from the back about five minutes later, with the exact amount of toppings I specifically informed him of as many times as I had. _Surprise, surprise_. A primitive noise came from the back of my throat while he passed me my afternoon treat and I handed him the exact change; he hadn't been murmuring about me in profane language earlier, but, rather, I was being cheap.

_Yum_. _Food_. Maria, seeing that we were at last finished with our business here, wheeled around and ushered the still laughing albino out of Annie's Ice Cream Shack, leaving me to push open the door with my rear, due to me holding my frozen treat in both hands while my tongue took immediate delight at the numerous flavors being introduced to my taste buds.

Carla's pale features were beet red, and her shoulders were shaking violently as she recurred to chuckle to herself, occasionally sputtering out creamy tear-shaped drops of what remained of her chocolate mint chocolate chip cone down the front of her black and red shirt, and I paused before shoving half of my treat in my mouth, chewing thoughtfully.

_Damn_..._ that must've been a pretty good joke Maria told her_._ At this rate, the kid's gonna suffer a heart attack_..._ either that or she's gonna die laughing_._ And_..._ oh, that's just fucking lovely_._ The Welcoming Committee Party's come to greet me once again_._ Oh happy day_.

_**(Chelsea)**_

_Okay, now don't panic, Chelsea_._ Panicking never helps_._ Best not to panic, because panicking always leads to pain, and pain is one of the many things you currently wish to avoid on your Hate List today._

Looking around my parent's bedroom I was, to say the least, shocked at the immaculate rearrangement and organization that made both Sharon and my room look like absolute garbage disposal sites; that and the spotless surfaces of the mirror and dresser at the end of the room, but other than the apparent fact that my father wasn't were I believed him to be, there was simply no reason for me to panic.

Absolutely.. no reason.. to go.. into a.. panic frenzy. I would **NOT **be reduced from a calm demenor to dashing around my parent's bedroom, bawling my head off just because neither of my parents were home; my mother I could care less about, but my father on the other hand wasn't exactly the greatest person to rely upon when it came to asking him when he'd be home. _Your Mummy and Daddy aren't home and you wanna cry_. Usually he'd be an hour or two late rather then on schedule like he rarely is, but that wasn't no reason for me to worry over him, was there?

_It's times like this I wish I hadn't skipped school today_. (1)

**Flashback**

"Miss Marquette, you're the fourth person to leave school today; who gave you permission to leave school grounds in the middle of the day?"

_The fourth person to leave? Does she mean my sister already left with two other people? I didn't see her in English last period, so it must be her_.

"Why, I received permission from the principal herself, Ms. Edwards. I have her signature right here on a slip of paper right here, if you don't believe me." I said half-heartedly, sticking my cursed tiny hands inside my pockets for the 'signed' note from the woman, and handed it to her.

Her icy blue eyes narrowed in suspicion, scanning frantically over the cursive handwritten note numerous times, obviously checking for any signs of it having been forged and, much to my amazement, the I'm-The-World's-Most-Arrogant-Bitch-On-Earth couldn't find any hint of my 'permission slip' being self-written by my hand.

I flashed Ms. Edwards my brightest smile, resisting all temptation to cuss her out until I was red in the face, but the smile plastered on my chubby cheeks slowly grew until eventually all my pearl white teeth glistened under the florescent lights humming above Mrs. Edwards' brown hair streaked with blonde streaks, making her appear older than younger.

The twenty-something year-old woman merely frowned at my feigned attempt to sweeten her up enough to grant me permission to leave this hellhole as soon as possible; mentally I was screaming at the egotistical blonde to let me be on my way, but then again I nearly choked on my silent laughter seeing the dumbfounded expression she had on her tan complexion when she held the slip of paper up to the lights. By this time, I was ready to screech as loud as my lungs would permit me to, hopefully until her ears began to bleed, at how too uptight she was, at how she had to suspect anyone and everyone.

_Christ! I wouldn't be surprised if she turned out to be a forty year-old virgin at some point down the road in her miserable life, plus the person who would even want to get laid with her needs to get their head examined; whether they be man or woman_.

Ms. Edwards was far too skinny to be considered sexy, or even beautiful, in my opinion. Or in anyone else's in the school, in that case. Plus, her personality even outmatched to that of a lemon, succulent enough to take a bite, but far too sour to return for second helpings.

"Well, Miss Marquette.. I don't know how someone like you managed to obtain permission from the principal to leave school grounds at halfway through the day, but I know you're up to something. Yet, I cannot prove beyond a shadow of a doubt that this handwriting is indeed the principal's, so you have permission to leave." She said all this in a single breath and with a slightly angered scowl on her tanned features, her icy blue eyes narrowed in that all-too-familiar, all-too-annoying suspicious glance of hers.

_Bless you Sharon_._ Bless you for staying up half the night two months ago practicing the principal's handwriting_.

I smiled at the young woman after she handed back the note back to me and, pocketing it safely away in the back of my cargo pants, readjusted my backpack on my beefy shoulders before gazing up into her narrow blue eyes, but she simply huffed arrogantly and I shrugged my shoulders. Halfway down the corridor, I stopped dead in my tracks hearing that banshee-like voice of hers echoed in my numb ears, bouncing off the walls and lockers before entering in one ear and exiting out the other.

"Don't think that I'm not onto your little game, Miss Marquette! One of these days, I'll come back to haunt you!"

Inwardly, I sneered at her weak little comment. _Hell, my father could've come up with something better than that piece of crap_. My pale lips absentmindedly tugged at the corners as the hint of a smirk, but my conscience was warning me that it wouldn't be particularly wise of me to wheel around and respond with a not-so-weak witty remark of my own, but I tilted my head sideways, my brownish golden hair obscured my eyes while my multicolored eyes leered into hers in a silent glare, and I was secretly regretting not having a hissy fit when I had the chance.

"Why, Ms. Edwards. I'm shocked to hear that you think of me in such an heartless manner! What made you think that I was toying with you in the first place?"

In a matter of no more than three seconds, the smirk that I concealed from her in the beginning slowly curled my lips into a full-fledged grin witnessing the pathetic blonde's mouth opening and closing shut like a completely bewildered fish out of water, Sharon was right; it's not the inside that has to matter, it's the person who you're dealing with that matters.

_Fucking bitch_..._ Just wait_..._ next time I see you_..._ you're dead. _(2)

**End flashback**

(Still Chelsea's View)

_Keys! Where does that useless mother of mine keep those fucking keys to that goddamn car?_

I shrieked in frustration, driving my foot multiple times into the mahogany wooden dresser, no signs of pain was shown in my eyes despite the fact that my big toe ached like there was no tomorrow when I finished with letting all my rage out on my oh-so-dear-and-lovely mother's furniture; it was now past noon and I **still** hadn't found those godforsaken keys to the car.

My former pale complexion had deepened to a dark cherry red, due to my anger and hinting at my unsuccessful at locating where Mum hid the car keys this time, but I settled for not attempting to destroy yet another one of her vases, and I paced about the small carpeted floor anxiously, racking my no-good brain for soon my photographic memory would kick in.

"Keys, keys, keys. I need car keys. Need to find my sister and those two girls before they all get suspended for leaving school without permission. But I can't find them if I don't have a car that can't leave the goddamn driveway without those **FUCKING CAR KEYS!" **

Growling like an White Sheppard sensing danger, I curled my good hand into a tight fist and, with no discourtesy (on my part of course) regarding the pain I would no doubt experience afterwards or of my rage boiling swiftly, but surely, to the surface, drove it somewhat forcefully into the wall, pausing to breathe heavily.

Once I removed my aching fist from _inside_ the wall, I saw that my mother's purse had fallen down on my parent's king sized bed covers. Looking upward a little, I smacked my forehead in embarrassment feeling more and more self-conscious of my ignorance that even though I should have remembered it sooner, rather than a few moments ago, my father had fashioned together a wooden hook shelf-like board up on the wall a while back and yet, like the idiot that I felt I was, I hadn't even considered searching the room more thoroughly.

_Wait! If Mum has a purse_..._ then_,_ having a purse means she must have keys to the car!_

"Keys, keys, keys, keys. Let there be keys here somewhere." I muttered, snatching my Mum's purse off the purple and green bedspread and dumping its contents all over the bed, not caring a few smears of lipstick stained the recently washed sheets and many oddly flavored scents flared my nasal area, causing my multicolored eyes to water.

Five minutes later I had checked and double checked the now scattered bottles, lipstick, and other numerous makeup containers that now lay strewn across my parents bed, but I **still** hadn't found the key and I was just about to give up in locating the keys when a tiny voice in the back of my head said _Check the purse again_.

... _Why hadn't I thought of that?_ Frowning, I lifted up the purse by its leather dark sky blue spaghetti strap and tipped it upside down, shaking the tiny bag furiously and casting my eyes sideways, to see if any sign of silver glistened in the early afternoon sunlight which illuminated the entire room- giving it a light musty odor- in through the window; however, I had no such luck.

Sighing heavily, I threw the now useless purse aside and flung myself backwards, I was now lying in an eagle-spread fashion with my legs spread wide apart and my arms criss-crossed over my overly large bosom. I twiddled my thumbs in desperation while my exceptionally anxious mind became flooded with thoughts, many concerning my father's whereabouts and, though I wasn't ready to admit it to myself at the moment, I was beginning to get a little worried about my mother for the first time in ages.

"Okay.. you're home alone at," I paused to steal a quick side glance at my wristwatch, "Half past noon. Neither of your parents are home, and you just discovered thirty minutes ago that your 'big' sister had apparently skipped school, for whatever reason, with two young teens whom she'll probably transform into her sidekick delinquents. She'd better have a reasonable explanation when she comes home later, or else I'll be forced to make her ass cherry red." (3)

I smiled to myself at the thought of disciplining my sibling instead of our mother being forced to use the hole-y paddle on her vulnerable skin, like she had done on many an occasion when we were kids, but now that both she and I were old enough to understand what limits we were restricted to nowadays, I felt it was my time to give my sister a little lesson in obedience.

My smile was fated to fade away. Soon a dark scowl crossed my face remembering Sharon's sobbing voice, listening to her shrieking while I sat on the floor in our room with my hands pressed tight against my ears as I rocked back and forth like some deranged mental patient.

**Flashback**

Young Chelsea directed her multicolored eyes toward her bedroom door, her tiny hands darting up to her face and her fingers quickly wiped away any signs that she had been crying while listening to her sister getting somewhat severely disciplined downstairs, and she could do nothing to hid evidence of her painfully vivid pink nose, due to her crying as hard as she had been, Sharon most likely would be too distracted with rubbing her sore bottom to catch sight of her sister's bright pink nose, leaving a trail of snot behind on her wrist.

The moment Sharon stumbled into the bedroom after slamming the door shut behind her and locking it, her left hand – as Chelsea had mentally predicted subconsciously – immediately flew behind her, tenderly rubbing the blisters that would without a doubt leave behind faint scars on her pale skin. Sharon's black-dark brown hair fell down over her eyes, so Chelsea couldn't tell for certain whether or not her sister was crying- or had been crying while their mother disciplined her with her so-called hole-y paddle- but she watched on in silent observation while her sibling staggered in a seemingly intoxicated manner towards the spot on the cold floor where her sketchbook lay.

Chelsea's multicolored eyes widened with each passing second as her sister picked up the piece of charcoal and began to scribble away, in a matter of minutes black had devoured nearly half the crisp white sheet, but Sharon's small hand still recurred to drift across the page; Chelsea soon noticed that their room soon began to slowly darken, and her entire being was recked with silent crying and shivered in fear.

Sharon, however, seemed completely blind to The Dark that had appeared seemingly out of thin air, for the seven year-old child still sat beside her sister, her nimble hand still gripped the fat piece of dark charcoal between her tiny fingers while two lone beads of perspire trickled down the sides of her pale complexion, her dark hair was matted to her face.

Chelsea, having had enough of the madness, turned towards her sister and gently shook her bony shoulder, but received no response safe for the unnerving silence that loomed over the two siblings heads like a never-ending cloud of despair and, mentally sighing in disbelief at her sister's ignorance, grasped Sharon firmly by the shoulders, shaking her somewhat limp body a little too roughly.

Chelsea could only look on in mute horror and awe seeing her sister's multicolored eyes were now but a mere shadow of the timid, tranquil light she had grown to adore, but it seemed to the young girl that her sister wasn't really looking at her; although her gaze pierced her fear-stricken blue-green-gray eyes, it was as if the elder sibling was looking within the very depths of her soul it seemed.

"S-Sharon? Sissy? Are you feeling alright? You're looking a bit feverish. Maybe you're coming down with something?" Chelsea hesitantly placed her tiny hand on her forehead, only to withdraw back as if her sister had stabbed her; Sharon's skin was ice cold.

"... I won't let her hurt you, Chelsie. No one will harm my sister and live to tell the tale. You've protected me too many times for me to count, so now it's my turn to return the favor." Sharon's eerily calm voice fluttered about in the girl's mind like a whimsical butterfly, strewn with venom as every word came from her pale rose lips as her rant continued.

"I won't let Mommy hurt you. I won't let her. It's not our fault that we were born like this, right Chelsie? It's not our fault we're like this. Mommy isn't allowed to touch you.. because.. because Mommy's aren't supposed to do that stuff to their children. But.. but Mommy does.. so Mommy hates us. Yes, she does. Mommy hates us. She wants us to die; then she wouldn't have to be burdened by us anymore. Isn't that right, Chelsie? Mommy's never loved us.. just because we're different from all the other kids. But.. but you'll love me, won't you Chelsie?"

Chelsea opened her mouth to speak, but immediately clamped it shut the moment Sharon averted her blank, apathetic gaze to meet her shocked, terror-stricken eyes and soon she found herself ignoring, or trying to ignore as best she could, the silent tears trickling down her alabaster cheeks as she stared in mute observation, waiting to see what her sister would say, or do, next.

"Chelsea?"

"Y-yes, Sharon?"

"You'll protect me from the Monsters, won't you?"

"But.. but Monsters don't exist, Sharon. Mommy told us that-"

"Mommy's wrong, Chelsea. She's always been wrong. They exist, Chelsie. And you know what?"

"W-what?"

"They're **all** not very happy, Chelsie. Not happy with the way everyone's been treating us."

"I-I don't get it, Sissy. What do you mean-"

"They said that they're gonna come soon. They're going to come and get rid of all the bad people. The Lady in White told me so. She's nice, Chelsie. She said she's gonna protect us. Isn't it nice for another grown-up besides Daddy who promised to protect us?"

Chelsea nodded her head vigorously. "Y-yeah, Sharon. That.. that's great news."

Sharon smiled, for the first time in a year. "I knew you'd understand me, Chelsie. That's why I'm glad you're my only Sissy. I gotta go now." She said with a cheerful grin, staggering to her feet, not noticing that The Dark had now began to dissipate slowly from the bedroom, and instantly replaced with sunlight and the sound of noises from outside.

"Where ya going to?"

"I gotta pee."

"Oh... well.. Go on and pee then."

"Hee, hee. Chelsie, you're funny. Watch my drawings and make sure Mommy doesn't get 'em, okay?"

"Will do."

The moment Chelsea heard the bathroom door slam shut, she instantly cast her gaze downward at the splash of black adorned the formerly blank page, picking it up and cradling the overly large sketchbook between her small hands. Chelsea's smile slowly began to fade seeing the nightmarish drawing that was so life like although it having been drawn by her sister, Chelsea silently feared that the drawing would soon leap from the page and gobble her in one bite.

The creature's face was sunken inward to the point where it facial bones protruded in a sickening manner from within its darkened swollen features, its eyes were two simple bloody rounded indents; a sure sign that some type of abrupt object had no doubt gouged out the creature's eyes, twin trails of blood flowed steadily down over its charred, sunken face and caked its horribly burnt lips in a thick layer of crimson, making it look like it had eaten someone in a voracious manner; dining in a simple attempt to satisfy its appetite. It had no ears, if Chelsea could count the barely visible slits on the sides of its face that could pass for ears, but then again it had no eyes, so she couldn't really say for sure if it could be able to see properly if it did leap out of the page.

Its chest was decorated in numerous savage thick slimy black worms, either that or it was dried blood that had started to decay, which criss-crossed its overly large bosom but, on closer inspection, Chelsea saw that the wounds had been stitched up like the way a professional surgeon would do after an operation, and she shuddered absentmindedly seeing the faint scars on its charred legs, though the scars were practically invisible she was somehow able to spot them as clear as day itself.

Between its scrawny fingers that was its right hand, wrapped in bandages, no doubt as the result of a fire, or something of that nature. The creature held a butcher knife, stained from tip to hilt in fresh blood, and Chelsea easily spotted the minuscule droplets of crimson dripping down the knife's edge before falling down to the metallic floor.

Its clothes, in Chelsea's eyes, couldn't really be considered clothes to normal people; it looked a bit too tight to be considered comfortable with the way it hugged its disgusting monstrous form, revealing surprising womanly curves beneath the few spots that wasn't caked in mud or blood, but it seemed to be the remains of a nurse's uniform; stealing a quick glance at the creature's deformed scalp, revealing a small portion of burnt crusted black hair, she took notice of the nurse's hat with the lopsided cross.

And it frightened her. Even though she knew it wasn't real, something about the drawing scared her.

"How was Sharon able to draw something so.. spooky?" (4)

_**End Flashback**_

(Still Chelsea's View)

I rubbed my weary eyes vigorously, trying to make the drowsiness that suddenly plagued my mind and body disappear, but the moment I realized that I wouldn't be able to force myself to stay awake with me lying on my parents bed, I sighed heavily in defeat and soon found myself sitting upright.

My mouth gaped open in silent shock seeing the car keys lying on top of the dresser where Mum kept a spare assortment of clothes, and other personal belongings. I slapped my forehead, silently scorning myself for being such an idiot and, forcing my unwilling obese body to get off the comfortable bedspread, I growled softly in anger snatching the car keys off the drawer.

"Something tells me this is gonna be a very long, very annoying day. Sharon, you better not be Downtown again. I don't wanna have the Old Lady bitch at me for not looking out for you like she did last time." I muttered to myself, gritting my teeth in my barely contained rage as I slammed the bedroom door shut. Slipping back into my combat boots, I grinned somewhat evilly when I jumped off the front porch, landing in a cat-like position on the gravel sidewalk ignoring the slight sting feeling the tiny sharp pebbles digging into my palms and causing them to bleed tiny trickles of blood.

"First time I spilled my blood today. Oh joy." I hissed in a painfully sarcastic tone, gripping the driver side latch in my tiny hand while I forced the key inside, smiling faintly seeing that it was the correct one.

Sitting inside the driver's seat felt new and yet familiar to me, but I shrugged off the nostalgic sensation as best I could before guessing which key was the one for the ignition and, silently hoping it was the correct one, grinned maniacally hearing the engine beginning to purr like an overly content kitten. My joy was fated to disappear. No more than 10 seconds had passed, then the engine suddenly died on me for no reasonable explanation at all, but now I was ready to kill the first thing or person I saw the moment I got out of the godforsaken vehicle and, shrieking in frustration, I pushed open the car door, staggering over to the front of the vehicle and pried open the hood.

"Hmm.. let's see. What else could be ailing you this time, you piece of crap?"

My green-gray-blue eyes scanned the engine compartment, hoping that a sign of some divine miracle would point out the cause as to why the car suddenly died on me, the gas meter had been at full, the motor seemed to be in perfect condition, and nothing looked to show any signs of anything having been overheating, but I settled for not destroying Dad's car and instead ran my lukewarm hands through my thick hair, racking my brain for some suggestion as to what I could do next.

Something silver glinted in the sunlight, something that was stuck in the engine and so, believing it to be the cause of the problem, I reached a good five feet stretching my fingers in desperation for whatever it was, laughing softly in success feeling.. an envelope?

Raising an eyebrow in confusion, I carefully shook the sealed envelope, hoping nothing breakable was in since I had shattered enough mirrors in my life to promise me three lifetimes of misfortune, and now feeling incredibly stupid for standing out in the middle of a deserted street, and holding an envelope like it was a ticking time bomb.

"Gotta do what's reasonable I suppose. ... Wonder what's inside it. No.. I shouldn't look. It could be personal.. but, then again.. Why would Dad hide a sealed envelope in the engine compartment? Unless he wanted for me or Sharon to find it." I muttered, my eyes widening in bewilderment.

Silently thanking myself for having amazingly abrupt nails, a faint smirk crossed my face when the small letter fell into my waiting palm and, blowing off the aged dust, my blue-gray-green eyes drifted over the handwritten letter, slowly widening in not bewilderment, but astonishment. The letter only had two sentences written on the mold encrusted paper. Words that held hidden meaning.

**Come home.. my child. Return to Silent Hill.**

"Silent Hill? Where's that?"

Sorry for the long update, my faithful reviewers. Chels-chan if you're reading this... I didn't disappoint you, did I? Because if I did, then a thousand apologies, my friend. I don't like to disappoint people like you. People who appreciate my fics. I will update on my other fics ASAP.

1- Not one of your character traits I'm sure, Chels-chan. Please forgive me.

2- Remember the last bit Chelsea thought. It's foreshadowing.

3- Think of it as the siblings disciplining one another.

4- Also foreshadowing.


	8. Premonitions

Disclaimer: I don't, nor will I probably ever, own the rights to Silent Hill. They belong to Konami so the only things I actually own is myself, one of my future OCs who will appear in either this chapter or chapter 9, and the plot for this fic. Sorry for the long update; I haven't been in the writing mood in the last little while due to... a personal reason that shan't be disclosed, and only 2 people know of. (Bows respectfully)

"Talking"

_Thinking_

**Emphasized**

**_"Shouting"_**

**Flashbacks** **(With kids/teens)**

_**Other flashbacks**_

**(Demon speaking to Demon)**

_**(Demon speaking)**_

_Also Flashbacks_ (_From the past_)

_**Fear**_

This chapter, and the entire fic itself, is dedicated to my faithful reviewers whose words of encouragement and inspiration fuel the fire for this fic; if it weren't for you guys, I would've discontinued this story. (Hugs all her reviewers) Enough chit-chat! Let the insanity begin!

**Authoress' Note: At one point I will possibly introduce a character(s) and/or an original monster(s) from one of the games, so be on the lookout for an AN, m'kay?**

_**(Sharon)**_

_Sister_... _Chelsea_... _where are you? I, I want you here with me_... _don't leave me behind again_. _Somebody_..._ anybody, please make the pain stop_.

Groaning timidly under my breath, I slowly pried my heavy eyelids open, pausing to blink once or twice to clear my vague vision before I was finally able to lean my face away from the concrete ground, and tenderly pressed my hand to where the- _Wait... am I bleeding...?_ My brows pinched the bridge of my nose and I slowly withdrew my hand away from the back of my scalp, looking on as my blood dribbled down the pads of my fingers to the center of my palm with a dull, disoriented, glazed sheen to my vision.

_Okay_..._ I know now why I was in so much agony when I woke up, but_..._ what I wanna know is WHY and HOW I came to be injured in the first place_. _I swear if I find out whoever did this to me, I'll be_..._ well, I'll be seriously pissed off is what I'll be! _I mentally screeched, absentmindedly sensing a wave of dispassionate, blazing, white-hot fire boiling my blood as I glared disdainfully at the redness oozing down my hand, watching as my life fluid trickled ominously warm crimson rivers.

_Pain is such a fickle thing_... _it gnaws away slowly at the fragile barriers of sanity we all possess_..._ snapping, cracking, breaking_... _crushing and virtually destroying it until there's nothing but shredded remnants of your former sanity_.

_Where the hell did that come from_..._? More importantly, how did I end up here? Well, that doesn't really matter right now, considering that I want to scream, bitch, curse, swear, punch, kick, thrash, destroy, maim, eradicate, and officially MURDER whoever did this to me! But, first things first, Sharon dearest_..._ it's time for your daily self-check-up, courtesy of yourself_.

Okay, now wasn't the time for bullshit. _God, why didn't you give me a full brain instead of a quarter and a half brain_... While I tried to ignore my momentary stupidity, I cautiously shrugged my shoulders, craning my neck downward and and sideways a bit, blinking once to clear my vision while praying to the Lord Himself that the only injury my body sported was the blistering red, oozing blood-and-layered-in-a-thin-coating-of-sensitive-pus and painful throbbing sensation I felt on the back of my head. A seemingly satisfied and obvious pleased sigh of relief slipping past my lips when I saw that my shoulders appeared to be in proper working order, and (what I found to be more thankful for) wasn't gushing out tiny crimson rivers like there was no tomorrow.

"Okay... I'm not bleeding there. Stupidity and Creepy-Ass-Stuff-That-Always-Happens-To-Me: one. Sharon and Her Stupidity-That-Will-Most-Likely-Get-Her-Killed-Someday: zero. Joy to the fucking world... oh well, I won't be dying today, thank God for that much... or whatever supernatural force that isn't going to let that happen to me."

_Okay_..._ let's see now_. _Head is bleeding_:_ check_. _Shoulders that aren't broken or injured_:_ check_. _You have no sweet clue as to how you got here and you're seriously pissed off_:_ check_. _Other bodily functions and limbs that have yet to be checked and looked over_:_ not-so-checked_.

Once I felt not-so-terrified as to actually pry open my heavy eyelids after having to close them shut silently again, it only made the pain pulsating with a burning and fiery hell of a passion to worsen with ten-fold the agony, and pain is such a fickle thing, like I mentioned before; it sneaks up on you as unexpected and predatory as Death, catching you off guard before it leans in for the kill and making you wish to all the insubordinate, otherworldly forces imaginable to take you straight down the dark and dank tunnel that eventually lead to the pretty white light; the Godly radiating light of purity that made your life flash before your eyes.

... _Did I suddenly have a near-death experience without realizing it had actually occurred or something_... _Curse my idiocy! Curse_..._ **fuck** this goddamn pain to Hell and back! I, I, I don't want to feel any more pain_..._ never, ever_.

My wounded and mildly depressed spirits rose up a bit; the fact that I was still able to maneuver about freely calmed my nerves and dosed my mind, swamped with insane images and even wilder musings than I had previously thought, in a hazy wave of peace and bliss. The only thing that could make the situation any more bleak and downright hopeless was- _All I can see is darkness, and_..._ nothing else_. _Just_..._ total and utter blackness_. ..._ Maybe I really did die, and I just don't know it yet_. _Oh wait_..._ stupid me_._ That's a really, really, not-so-good-it-boggles-the-mind horrendous sign_._ Opening one's eyes and being greeted by darkness; having no sight and you can officially declare sheer blindness_.

Yep... this... is... definitely... a seriously... bad sign...

I'd like to see how this situation could possibly get any worse. _Wait, my hands are_... _they're wet? _I don't want to be in the street anymore. Wait a minute... since when was I in the street...? _Oh yeah_... _that's gravel and dirt under my ass there_. "Aw, hell. Here I am bleeding from a freaking wound on the back of my head, my hands are wet with God knows what, I'm pissed as fuck and I don't know **why **I should even **be **pissed off for starters, **and **I probably have finally gone off the deep end because I'm **_talking to myself_**. And... oh, double hell... somehow, I don't think I'm making any sense either."

Cautiously, I raised both my hands and tried to make twin fists, hoping they weren't bruised (not that they were as far as I could tell and feel), bleeding, and/or broken in a gazillion places, thus requiring medical attention; I swore under my breath, my eyes watering slightly, and I moaned as if I was being tortured. _For Christ's sake! Fuckin' A! Goddamn needles! _Apparently, my arms and hands had decided to pick a few moments ago as a perfect time to go ahead and sleep.

"Fuckin' A... how long have I been out here?"

Wasting whatever ounce of determination, strength, and resolve I had left, I forced myself to sit upright, wincing feeling a couple sharp edges of pebbles digging into my back and lower backside, but at least I had some slice of success. _Some_ success is better than having none at all. And the word 'success' in my case means I pushed myself up into a sitting position, only to fall down and roll on my back like a dog playing dead.

_Oh joy_..._ time to muster whatever remaining strength I have so as not to vomit, perhaps? Perhaps, yes, perhaps_. _My GOD! Shut up, shut up, shut up, shut up, SHUT UP! Dear me_..._ I have such a stupid-ass mind and way of thinking, don't I? Ah well_... _least I can see the clear blue sky, and I have a good, painfully obvious-as-day idea as to where the rest of me is; all my limbs are attached, and aren't wounded_.

Speaking of wounds and limbs... wait, my limbs. Yeah, I should probably check how the rest of my body is holding up, even though I can't feel any blood gushing out like a fountain anywhere else. _Hm_... _let's see, where to look first? Hands are A-okay, so no worries needed there_. _Shoulders are alright too, so maybe_... _stomach? Legs? Feet?_ Sudden, abrupt waves of pain shot my nerves when I attempted for a second time to sit in an upright position, but I ignored the haziness vaguely distorting my vision for the moment, concentrating solely on my previous goal so that the pain was only minor.

A barely audible 'hmph' slipped its way past my lips when I rested all my body's entire weight on my buttocks so, at least that way, I'd be able to fully assess the damage dealt to poor ol' me. Which is kind of queer and stupid-looking; assessing the damage on your own. It's like CSI, only less fun and enjoyable to watch. Looking down, my midriff, knees, legs, and feet was soon displayed to my eyes. Hmm... no blood anywhere down there. _Joy! But, oh no! I don't have my footwear on! What the fuck! _

"Wait... I have other pairs at home, so... why am I freaking out? Maybe it's because you're a friggin' twat! Damn it... I'm talking to myself **again**."

Hazily, it dawned on me that the worst pain was in my nose. Cautiously, and treating my nose it though it were constructed out of glass, I gingerly pressed my index finger against it. "**_Goddamn it!_**" Alright then, more caution needed for the next time your nose gets cracked and starts oozing out blood, you stupid moronic idiot. I sincerely hoped it was just bleeding really bad and not, in fact, broken. It didn't matter anyway; a fresh river of crimson just started dribbling down the front of my shirt.

"Ohhhhhhhhhhhhh... damn me. My nose went and exploded."

_What the hell? _"_My nose went and exploded?_" _How stupid can you get? Oh sweet Jesus, that's a funny sentence_.

"Ha ha ha ha... heh, heh... _eheheheheheheheheheh_." My voice sounded raspy, and very maniacal. My lips tugged and twitched violently as a smile was trying to form, but the left side of my face was too screwed up to work properly.

"Are you okay? You don't look so good."

I blinked, then twice or three times more, a barely noticeable frown tugging at the corner of my lips when, upon lifting my dim, slightly obscured vision, I saw a little girl staring back at me; her features creased with lines of curiosity, her eyes shining with the same bewildered, intrigued light. Dark hair. Dark blue eyes. Plus, she had that dress-overalls thing going on. Maybe around five years old, but no older than eleven. I had no sweet fucking clue.

_What the hell are you looking at, kid? Oh, right_... _I'm the one spouting blood out of two wounds I didn't have before, and possibly resembling a buffoon drunk off their ass while looking and dressing the part_. _But, still_..._ she doesn't have to stare so mindlessly at me_.

Don't get me wrong; usually I don't mind kids, but this kid was creeping me out for some reason. It's not every day you have a young child like her staring back at you like you'd just grown three heads. For a moment her lips parted, and I thought she was going to say something, but she didn't, and I absentmindedly sighed to myself when the faint onslaught of a migraine began to pound away lightly against the sides of my soft yet slowly-being-set-on-fire brain; having this kid looking strangely at me, and not in a considerably good way, was making weirder stuff happening to me, and possibly affecting my brain. _My paranoia must be finally getting to me_... I mused silently, mentally groaning in discomfort as the Pain inside my stiff and sore mind soon worsened.

"Uh... um, yeah kid... never been better." _Oh! My throat feels like a scorching fire! That's awesome_.

"No, when I asked you if you were okay, I was talking about your hair and eyes. They're very ugly. Are you fully sane in that fat head of yours?"

_Well, praise the Lord! Thy tormentor has arrived and thou is wishing thy head wouldst be struck!_

"... Um, what... what did you just say, little girl?" I asked her through clenched teeth, resisting the sudden urge to lean forward and smack her across the face; if she can act like this to someone who's at least fourteen years her senior and more wiser than she lets on, how the hell does the little twit treat her parents? I wasn't too positive if the '_I wish abortion could occur between the ages of eight and twelve_' expression was being revealed across my face, but I was sure as hell trying to.

"I said 'Your hair and eyes are ugly'. Are you really so stupid as to not understand proper English?" she asked in a childishly superior and matter-of-fact tone, her pale lips tugging in the slightest at the hints of a small smile, or a possible smirk, threatened to grace her lightly tan features; my lips twitched violently again, no doubt a different, more uncharacteristic smile, or smirk, of my own was threatening to etch into my pale features.

"Heh, heh... say kid, where is your Mother? Where is your Mother so that I may explain to her what having a paraplegic for a daughter will be like?"

She looked at me, stunned as a bat, for a few minutes in silence, then she giggled and ran around the corner. Just another chapter in the ever-so-entertaining story of my life. Hey, corner! Here we go, I'm in the alley behind the ice cream shop.

Dear God... maybe, in a few years, or decades, ahead of today, I'll probably look back on this and laugh.

Laugh until I'm blue in the face, or until the men in white come and ship me off to the happy hotel. Yup. Yes indeed. That's me. Insane, and yet not so crazed. Let me insert one of those freakishly long and dull sentences that will mean nothing because nobody will give a damn, simply because they either don't care or they don't want to waste their time.

Well, fuck, it was pretty hilarious then.

Nose explosion. Heh. 'My nose went and exploded'. Another heh needed there.

Rumble, rumble. Damn it, I just ate. God, don't I have anything better to do than stuff my face 24/7?

Rumble, rumble. ... Apparently not.

Say, where did Maria and Carla run off to? And where's my sister?

... Oh. I just made myself sad again.

_**(Chelsea)**_

_Seriously, allow me to ask myself this, what in God's name possessed me to leave Dad's car when it was working before, and since I have some experience in how vehicles work, I just had to be a complete idiot and leave it anyway? _

I had pondered and reflected upon the events that occurred within and outside school territory more times than I bothered to keep track of, but it seemed every time I thought about that freakishly, be-damned-than-Hell horror-movie-flick-like dream thing that happened in class earlier, not to mention the weird, anonymously sent letter I found in my Dad's car (now tucked away in my back pocket for safekeeping), it was less illogical, and more ridiculously insane, than last time.

Truth be told, I just wanted to know what it was I had 'Seen', and why I was envisioning it.

I just couldn't make any sense of it, though sometimes I never made for good logic. When I remembered that time in my childhood, and how blank and unresponsive my sister had been, I just felt so angry, like I wanted to go right up to the next person I saw, tear their head off their shoulders and spit down their throat. It was like someone was screwing around with my head; I was remembering, and Seeing, things that didn't make even the least bit sense.

I had heard whispers.

I slowed my fast pace just a bit to peer into a few of the nearby deserted shops. I was moving quickly before; I figured the faster I moved, the faster I'd be able to seek temporary shelter out of this frigid, slightly overcast day. Sadly, it didn't really matter how fast I walked or jogged at times, since I didn't really know where exactly I was headed, or if wherever I was now was the direction my sister and her two accomplices had taken.

I just felt the sudden urge to leave school and head straight home, which I did, but now, looking around the desolate streets deprived of any signs of life or not hearing any passing vehicles, I realized I had wandered pretty damn far from school grounds.

Not only that, but I wasn't quite sure where I was. _Stay calm, Chelsea_. _You're not lost, you just_..._ don't know where you are yet_.

"Fuck." I whispered, though nobody was near, and it was quite clear that I was the only living soul on this empty street, but still... _I always feel awful if I swear in front of kids_. Since I was in the vicinity of a fair I decided it was best to shut my big yapper. _Wait, a fair? What in the name of hell is a fair doing here? It's the middle of December_._ I was sure they only came during the summer_.

Grudgingly pressing onward, lead like a dog on a leash, but not by an invisible collar, rather by strange music and children's laughter, my pace once again quickened. The sudden noises seemed to be just past Annie's Ice Cream Shack, which was only two blocks away.

_Damn, it's quiet around these parts_._ Almost_..._ too quiet_. I kept moving forward, but risked taking a swift glance at my wristwatch. 1:30. I wanted to find my sister and the other two girls before school ended, and before Mom found out that not only had I skipped school, returned home without her permission (not that she was there in the first place), but that Sharon had also skipped school, and had dragged two teenagers along with her.

On the other hand, I was curious as to why a fair would be all the way out here.

That last thought made me pause. Curiosity had made me look like a total ass once this morning. Perhaps the same thing would occur here as well? I'm not an angry person, but it takes a lot to piss me off, unless the person's being really, really stupid and says something I wouldn't normally find to my liking, but that otherworldly hallucination had triggered something. But, the second I tried to remember what it was, I saw the black board again.

**_My dear child... come home. _**Written in an obscenely, horrifying manner... written in blood...

Then the whispering began again. It sounded like schoolyard chanting. Sounded like children's voices. Young children. Chanting... with taunting and sneering tones.

"_Witch_."

"_Devil_."

"_Spawn of Satan_."

"_Outsider_..."

"... _freak of nature_."

"_Don't let her touch you_."

"... _maybe she'll cast a spell on us_."

"_Did you hear what she did? I heard she_..."

"_She'll kill you_."

"... _out to get us_."

"_Witch_..."

"W_itch_..."

"_Witch_..."

"_Witch_..."

"**Witch**..."

"**Witch**..."

"**Witch**..."

"**_WITCH!_**"

I wanted to just fall to the ground and beat my head while slapping myself silly. Or, what would be more fun, take my bewilderment and rage out on the first person I saw... And I felt pretty tempted to do so after seeing someone I had never seen before in my life was standing in the middle of the street, looking a bit lost, and puzzled. Like he, or she, had misplaced something and didn't know where they had last put it.

Speaking of said person wearing said forlorn expression, the moment I was within their range of vision, the mysterious figure's neck made a soft, yet clear, cracking noise when their head snapped sideways, staring at me, but not really staring **at **me. _It's like she's staring into my soul_..._ how absurd_.

"You've finally arrived." I stopped dead in my tracks, staring straight ahead with unblinking, observing eyes, trying to figure out the meaning behind what _she _had just said. _Just what is this crazy woman getting at? _Her bare feet made soft 'tap'ing noises as they timidly struck the recently paved road, but she didn't seem to take notice of the loose edges of concrete digging into the soles of her feet and causing them to bleed, and still she continued to approach me, still beholding that uncanny, blank and seemingly deceased gleam in her eyes.

I, on the other hand, stood perfectly still to get a better look at her. _Not to mention so I can kick her ass if she tries anything_... Her hair had an unnatural platinum blond sheen to it, falling across her shoulders and caressing the lining of her oval-shaped face with each step she took, her eyes were a dull ice-blue and a faint, barely noticeable light of curiosity and recognition shined briefly in those twin seas of color before that strange light was extinguished. Her clothes were an odd sight; obviously not of this day and age, the outfit seemed to resemble the kind of style gypsies would wear, but other than that there was nothing exceptionally peculiar about the woman.

"Um, yeah.. that's... that's really nice and all lady, but I have to go now. So... I'll be going now. Bye." I gave her a simple wave and nearly walked by her, but she stepped sideways and stood firmly, purposely blocking my path. I glared at her sternly. "Get out of my fucking way! I have to go and find-"

"Your sister... correct? You needn't worry about her, _Chelsea_. She is out of harm's way, for the moment. But, shall we get down to the matter at hand? This doesn't concern your **sister**, but it does concern you."

_How the fuck does she know my name? And_..._ how does she know about Sharon? _Daddy had always told me that if a stranger knew your name, or anything else that you considered personal business, it meant bad news, but this 'stranger' was beyond bad news; I could feel it. "Look lady, I don't know who the fuck you think you are, but if you don't get out of my way this minute, you'll be sorry!" I spat tartly at her, narrowing my eyes into cat-like, dangerous slits.

"You don't remember? You can't recall anything about your past, can you, Chelsea?"

"I remember my past! I remember-"

"You remember **nothing.** You can't lie to me, child. I See everything. But, while it does puzzle me as to why She would allow you to see Her memories, it doesn't puzzle me why your feeble mind cannot seem to recollect any memories. Your... 'sister'... she has unknowingly replaced what you and her regard as memories, but are not what they appear to be. They are... false recollections."

"Well, **_fuck you, bitch! _**It is **you** who knows nothing! You don't know me, and you'll stay away from my sister! After I find her and once we get home, you'd better believe our father will hear about this!" I growled in seething dispassion, my tiny hands had curled into fists during my little rant and now they shook violently; it took nearly all of my self-restraint not to punch her right between the eyes.

"He's not your father, and Sharon isn't related to you; she was never your sister. ... I'm sure you have noticed that Sharon was different from all the other children, yourself included; you knew you two could see, hear, and envision things no one else could, especially when you two were alone and in the dark. Your foster mother thought you two were simply crazy; insane; cursed children who flaunted their abnormalities about while telling your adoptive father false tales of what She told you."

"Crazy... you're fucking crazy, lady! You... you... you have **seriously **lost it! And who is 'She' you keep ranting and raving about? Who is 'She'? **_WHO!" _**

She smiled and looked upward. "She is You."

_She is_..._ me?_

My brows pinched the bridge of my nose, again trying to make sense of what she was saying, but, like herself, the words she spoke were shrouded in mysterious and beheld a hidden meaning, and I couldn't pinpoint any reasonable logic as to what she was saying. But, at the same time... _I feel as though I've met this person somewhere_..._ but, I can't remember when or where_.

"Listen... um, lady... I don't know where my sis- Sharon is right now, she might be hurt."

"You needn't be concerned for her well-being. What you should be worried about is who you truly are, your true origins, and how you came to exist; more importantly, that which you must become."

"What are you saying...? I don't understand you!"

"Don't you See, Chelsea? Your powers are needed; that is why your 'sister', as you call her, and the other two girls, play a role in this as well."

"So... what you're saying is... this 'woman' has given me powers? And... my sister too..." I muttered more to myself than anything, my long, sharp canines digging and grinding into the soft flesh of my bottom lip while I silently racked my brain in the hopes that I would recall any point in my life when I acted out of character. Nothing came to mind.

"I am Claudia..."

(A/N: I don't own Claudia, and she's not mentioned or seen in the Silent Hill movie, I don't think, so I obviously don't own her. Konami does.)

I snapped my attention back to her, stunned for a moment. "So what?" I emphasized my statement with my hands, gritting my teeth further into my lip, and not caring that a tiny trickle of blood oozed forth within the small wound.

_Wait, if she told me her name then that means_... "Claudia, right? Did you... are you the person responsible for making all this Spooky Stuff happen to us? To me? To my sister? And... to Carla and Maria?"

Claudia's eyes glimmered with an unreadable emotion; her ghost-white features creased deep with lines of sheer joy, and she smiled, or her lips were set in a grim line that resembled a smile, causing my puzzlement to worsen. "It was the hand of God."

_**(Maria)**_

_There's nothing there, nothing there, nothing there_... _there's nothing **anywhere**!_

Well, in Reality, there **was** something here, actually quite a number of somethings here; I was in the vicinity of a local park, so there was a swing set, a jungle gym, a slide, two see-saws, and a few benches. But, before that, I had 'Seen' something... something else.

"Oh... oh dear God."

I was sure I must have looked a sore sight to see for the group of young mothers who gawked at me with wide eyes full of shock and disbelief; remaining near their young like hawks to their brood. After I was far out of sight and away from their children, they returned to chit-chatting idly away, most likely questioning as to why I was running away in sheer terror, but then it dawned on me that I should get out more often since I was exhausted after scampering nonstop down two blocks before finally stopping to catch my breath.

_But, dear Christ of almighty_... _after seeing Carla get riled up like that_... "Oh fuck."

My legs suddenly decided to give out then and there; I collapsed to the ground, coughing and breathing harshly, sounding as if I was trying to choke up a lung, my hands struck the pavement first, hard, but I still continued to wheeze and pant, ignoring the sudden pangs of pain tightening in my chest; sighing, I shifted my gaze downward, staring blankly at the ground, and making my glasses to slip a bit over my nose. _Nothing is making any sense anymore! Am I losing it already? Oh shit, what if I am going crazy? How much of what I 'Saw' back there_... _with Carla_..._ was real? _

_I **KNEW **coming to this fucking town was a bad idea, but nooooooooo_._ My Mommy just had to ignore my pleas and whining and bitching and move here anyway_. _Fine then, if I wind up getting discovered gut, strangled, bleeding, bruised, and raped in an alleyway tomorrow, then it'll be my M- No, I can't blame her_.

Eventually, my eyes started to get moist, and I scowled darkly seeing my glasses were starting to fog up. _You pathetic, big-ass baby! Don't start crying now! Don't you dare! _... _Your new friends aren't here to comfort you and you want to bawl like the whiny little bitch you know you are_. I sucked back the tears, and forced myself to take a shaky, shallow breath while wiping away the cold beads of sweat that began to gather and trickle down my brow, my face scrunching as I pondered about what happened, and what had caused the albino to want to get away from me as quickly as possible.

_Carla, she had_... _her ice cream, she_..._ threw it at me, babbled something that sounded like 'Monsters'_,_ and took off running without looking back_. Reflecting on that particular scene, and remembering how confused I was seeing the look of mortal horror plastered on the girl's face before she fled, I frowned and glimpsed down at my shirt; warm trickles of mint flavored ice cream dribbled down my front, decorated with chocolate chips, and two flattened cherries. And... there was more red splatter than there should have been... a crimson hue that didn't look like twin globs of crushed fruit... red that didn't seem to come from the ice cream.

**_"_Did they make you 'See' it too?"**

**"Oh, come on, don't feign ignorance. Did you see the way the white-haired one smiled? How happy the kid with the glasses looked? How the Psychic Psycho and her Miss Suicidal Fuck Up of a sister grinned when they made us 'See' what they See? Well, did you?"**

**_"_Somehow, I don't think that was the reason. They looked just as scared as we did."**

**_"_No, no, you're wrong! It WAS them! I SAW how they reacted; it was unnatural, I tell you. Didn't you see how joyful they all looked? I just KNOW they're the sole reason for this place being shot to hell and back."**

**_"_Are you sure, that maybe... they were pleading for us to help them?"**

**_"_I'm not entirely sure why I'm going to say this, but... I think they all want to kill you. Kill me. Kill everyone; they want everyone except themselves to perish."**

**_"_Why?"**

**_"_I don't know; I just get this really unnerving sensation whenever I see them, or I'm near them."**

**_"_Even if that were true, why would they want to kill anyone, much less everyone in town?"**

**_"_It doesn't make sense when you stop and think about it, right?" **

**_"_... What makes you think that I'm lying? You didn't see the demented gleams their eyes beheld, did you? You don't think it was the least bit strange?"**

**_"_... It did look a bit odd. But, that's what the four of them are: eccentric. Nothing more."**

**" 'Eccentric'? How can you find the grounds to say that? They aren't like us! They are NOT normal, not by my standards, and I'm sure as hell you'd agree with me if you pried your head from your ass!"**

**"What? Just what are you saying?"**

**_"_I'm saying that... okay, so maybe they aren't what we'd consider to be normal, or sane, but that doesn't-"**

**_"_It doesn't WHAT? Doesn't give me the privilege of WHAT? It doesn't give me the right to scorn them? To look down on them and mock them for being the scum of the earth? Ask anyone who lives near them; they'll tell you all about the Creepy Stuff they've heard coming from their houses late at night."**

**"Piercing screeching, children crying, insane bouts of laughter, weird chanting, and unearthly moans coming from the darkness... once I heard a local reporter went into the sisters' home to investigate the source of the noises, and she was never heard from again."**

**"That's bullshit, and you know it. All that talk is just local gossip; made-up stories just to have something wild and unheard of around these parts to discuss, to entertain the teens while they're out in the woods swapping stories and passing out alcohol."**

**_"_No, it's true! A lady in red told me! Someone from the church, I think."**

_"_..._ have been found!"_

_"Did Claudia tell you this?"_

_"Yes_._"_

_"Then it must be true; her Sight rarely fails her."_

_"Father, do you honestly think God will bring about Paradise? Usher in a new Beginning? Bestow Her serenity and blessings upon mankind, to cleanse the Sinners of their hellish pasts'?"_

_"If She wills it, my child_._ If God Herself wills it to be so_._"_

_Maria, child, you've officially gone insane_. _How terrific! Now if only the men in the white coats were here to escort you to the happy hotel, you'd be all set for life! Yeah, fucking right_._ My ass they will_.

_**You shouldn't blame your ever-weakening mental state on yourself, Pet. You were insane before you came to this town.**_

I frowned. _Okay, out of all the things I expected to hear, a creepy voice wasn't one of them_. Puzzled, and startled, hearing this voice, I looked up from my ice cream splattered shirt and took a swift glance at my surroundings. _Nothing is here_.

_**I am here, sweet child. I've always been there... inside you... watching you, waiting for the perfect time to come and tear you apart.**_

_Where are you?_

_'It' _chuckled; a deep, throaty laugh, and then _'It' _spoke again, its voice ending in a velvety purr. _**Seems you weren't paying attention to what I told you, child. I'm inside you; dwelling deep within that frail mind of yours. Feasting... **_

_Feasting? Feasting on what?  
_

_**Your hidden Fears... of course, how can you possibly Fear what you cannot see, that which has no body, but it takes its own form whenever needed? I have no eyes; no ears; no mouth; no sense of taste. And yet, I have all of these delectable senses, I possess so much more too. And it's all thanks to you, child.**_

My legs suddenly had the energy to move again. I rose quickly enough to make me dizzy and took off running, not waiting for my disoriented state to pass. I just ran. The sane part of my head warned me that I looked intoxicated, and I was most likely dressed the part too, but that was the least of my worries at the moment; as I ran, that psychopathic voice in the insane part of my head still laughed at me, still poked and prodded away at my brain, still teasing me with the chance that I had really lost it.

"Oh God... oh... God..."

_**(Carla)**_

_Darkness_..._ Darkness is all that I am, all I have ever been and will be, all that's greeted and protected me since my birth_...

I groaned, prying my eyelids open slowly, a pained, choking noise coming from the back of my sore throat as I blinked to clear my blurry vision, groaning again feeling an unknown source of numb, searing agony originating somewhere on the back of me. I cringed, feeling my body stiffen for a brief moment when I was finally able to ease my head off the ground, pressing my hands to my temples and gently rubbing the pads of my fingers into my tender skin, moving my hands in semi-circle motions.

_Okay, stay calm, Carla, stay calm no matter what happens_... _First, you have to remember what happened before, and then figure out how you came to be here_..._ wherever 'here' is exactly_.

Something moist and sticky was dripping all over my shirt and dampening it heavily... something that didn't smell like food... Taking a weary glance down, my eyes quickly doubled in size seeing the many trickles of crimson oozing down my shirt, a few red rivers slipping inside and making the areas stained with a superfluous amount of red deepen in color... _but where did all this blood come from?_

_**Flashback**_

_**Monsters... blood... bodies... monsters, blood, and bodies... everywhere.**_

_**Darkness... choking blackness... disillusioned Reality... shattering the mind... sheer Insanity.**_

**_"Maria? Sharon? Chelsea?"_**

_**A timid voice, calling out to people who seem to exist no longer... all alone in a dark and dank world...**_

_**White hair drenched in nervous perspire, red eyes narrow in fear and anxiety, pale hands drifting up to grace One's alabaster complexion. Unknowing, alarming Fear striking One's heart, pulsing wildly within the body; choking back tears, forcing all negative possibilities from inside One's frantic mind, running rampant with mindless self-doubt and concern.**_

_**Sky's a sea of shadows, desolate houses stand dilapidated, empty, and devoid of life, streets filling up with a foreboding mist, rendering One's vision nearly useless; sickening shade of red brown, the color of filth; a dreadful melancholic gray, supporting Their deep sadness; sinful hue of deep, deep red, blistering abyss black, colorless and meaningless colors all stand for and yet mean nothing, nothing but to One.**_

**_"Where is everybody? Why is it so quiet?"_**

_**One's fear is oh so obvious, plain as day, eyes widening hearing faint steps coming from ahead, taunting One with the small chance that someone else may lurk behind the misty veil obscuring One's vision.**_

**_"Someone... is here?"_**

_**A child with jet black hair and demonic black eyes; lifeless; emotionless; a sadistic grin etching into porcelain features, shoulders quivering insanely, the body tilting from side to side while humming a melodious tune; ancient rune symbols appearing on One's face, returning the grin and bending One's back in a courteous bow, sharp canines glistening with spittle, blood splattered nails dripping droplets of crimson rain upon the ever-shifting ground.**_

_**("Who are you, monster? She told me you died a long time ago... how is it you still breathe Life? She and her sister exorcised you from the other girl, then they butchered you in a manner so horrifyingly sweet, yet here you are.")**_

_**One loses the superior sneer, lines creased deep in puzzlement and shock appear on One's face, frowning in the slightest seeing Him grinning like a maniacal adolescent girl, boiling undeniable rage coursing through the body the more He continues to stare, the wider His grin became, the brighter the light of ruthless sadism gleamed.**_

**("I'm just like you, Monster; I am Nothing, yet I am Everything. I am You. I am Her. I am Them. I am Everyone who can comprehend and experience pure Hate. The Two Half-Soul girls know this well; they know Hate. It is nearly everything they've ever known, whether they wish to believe so or not, they hate You, not the human you possess. Just... You.")**

_**Closing One's eyes, reflecting on what He way-laid on His free will, discovering nothing but sheer nonsense, reopening One's sights and seeing He vanished into the malevolent veil of fog, as if He had never been there, but feeling blood oozing from a wound deadlocked in the center of One's flesh... a wound that wasn't there previously... a wound sketched to resemble a cultist crest like symbol.**_

_**End Flashback**_

Authoress' Note: Gah! I'm sorry my lovelies, but I must end it there! And please forgive me for not updating for... well, a long time. (Wide eyes) So, hopefully, this will keep you all in high spirits before I update on my other fics. Lost In Darkness will most likely be the next fic to be updated (at last!) so be sure to keep an eye out. (Bows in respect to her reviewers)


End file.
